


Rise of Nations

by meridianpony



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bending, Everyone gets a POV, Hinata's the avatar, I KNOW USHIJIMA IS A PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL BUT WHO ELSE IS GONNA BE THE BAD GUY IM SORRY OK, I don't know what I'm doing, Oikawa's having a bad day, PTSD, Tanaka is awesome, Torture, Ushijima's a bad guy, avatar AU, just roll with it I guess, pretty long chapters, swords and fighting and stuff, tyranny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:22:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianpony/pseuds/meridianpony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something wrong in the world. </p><p>To the West, a king falls, and a tyrant rises. To the North, a desperate Prince fights for his people, struggling to reclaim his homeland. The land is full of discord and terror, and the Fire Nation armies advance, leaving trails of destruction in their wake.</p><p>The Nations must stand together... or they will fall to the flames. </p><p>Avatar AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall of a Nation

**Author's Note:**

> Avatar AU. Roll with it for a minute, and tell me what you think.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Normally, I'd think of Iwaizumi as an earthbender, to be honest. But there was this fanart (I have no clue who created it and I can't find it again now anyway which is sad) of firebender Oikawa and waterbender Iwaizumi, and I fell in love with it, so yeah... this happened.
> 
> I'm very seriously looking for someone to beta read this stuff who would be willing to tear me apart. Anyone interested?
> 
> Drop a comment or a kudos if you liked it! See you at the next update!

His knee is on _fire._

Well, not literally, because if it was, he'd be able to do something about it. Instead, it throbs in pain with every step he takes as he stumbles on icy chunks below him, and it is all he can do to keep silent as it is strained across the ground.

He has burns running up and down his arms, and the tips of his hair are singed. That's nothing he's not use to—every firebender has had his fair share of burns—but these are particularly bad. It's not so much the pain of the wounds that truly hurts right now—it is the harsh sting of betrayal and the loss of a trusted friend that hurts the most, like a brand across his chest.

Oikawa can't remember a time when things have been worse than this.

The ice is sharp beneath him, glistening with a cold, disconnected beauty. It cuts into his soft shoes, the light material not meant for long treks on top of an iceberg. The wind bites at his battered body viciously. If he does not find some sort of shelter soon, he will die out here. His own fire can only save him for so long, and night is falling, fast. The weak sun is sinking in the sky, blazing a trail of soft red and pink hues as it drops beneath the horizon. If Oikawa had been at home, safe and warm in the palace of the fire nation, he would have stopped to enjoyed the gorgeous view.

Except he's not home, and he is struggling over sharp ice, limping every other step and biting his lip furiously to hold back tears that will freeze on his face the second they fall.

Darkness is closing, and as it does the wind picks up even more, flinging snow across the frozen desert. Oikawa's light robe ( _far_ too light for these conditions) whips around him, and he lifts his arms to cover his face in a fruitless attempt to protect his eyes.

If he stops, he knows he will die, so he rubs his fingers together and creates a tiny flame across his hands. Its heat is only barely felt in such conditions, but Oikawa nurses it from the wind, and presses onward.

His knee shakes now. It is barely holding his weight, but the rest of his body is completely numb. That's not a good sign.

In his attempt to move quicker, and due to the impending darkness, he fails to spot a jutting slab of ice near level with his calves. He stumbles over it and, without thinking, throws out his leg _hard_ to save himself—

His scream of pain is lost in the howling wind as his knee finally gives out. The tiny, hopeless fire in his palm goes out as he tumbles into the snow.

It feels like a hot poker has been thrust into his knee. The stabbing pain refuses to subside, too, and Oikawa can do nothing but grit his teeth and curl up in a tiny ball in a futile attempt to protect himself from the elements.

He wonders if this is how he will die. Alone, betrayed, turned into a frozen relic of the North Pole.

To be fair, he doesn't think it's the worst way to go. The Fire Nation royalty of old had tended to have a history of extremely violent and bloody deaths. Oikawa counts himself lucky that he will not be among them.

He tries to start another fire, but his fingers refuse to obey him. His body shakes with effort, but he can barely move. He wants to scream in frustration. His hair and eyelashes are crusted over with ice, and there is a thin layer of snow across his body. The wind continues to howl around him, it's cold fingers clawing at him without reprieve.

_It's cold._

His mind is numb, too, and with one final effort, he lifts his head to look across the icecap.

He can't see very far, but for an _instant_ , the wind dies down, and there is a figure standing in the distance.

Someone is there.

Oikawa's eyes widen, and he redoubles his efforts to move, managing to sit up and gasping at the popping sound his knee makes when he does. He can't see the person anymore, but someone _was_ there a moment ago.

This is Oikawa's last chance to live.

He refuses to die like this.

He can't call out—the wind is too loud, so instead he focuses on his bending. He takes a deep breath. It is hard to concentrate, to summon warmth in such a desolate, freezing place, but Oikawa is determined. His exhale through his nose is accompanied by a rush of heat and a puff of flame.

With a strangled shout, Oikawa uses up the last of his strength in a frantic slash through the air with his arms. Trails of flame follow his fingers, and for a brief instant he is lit in brilliant orange and yellow light before it is snuffed out by the wind again.

He collapses after that. His energy is completely spent, and he can only hope that his desperate beacon was seen.

He is beginning to drift off, knowing full well that once he falls asleep, he will not wake up again, when boot-clad feet fill his fading vision. Oikawa registers the sight slowly and blinks in surprise, but he can barely move, much less clear the freezing fog from his numb mind.

The person reaches out and grabs him, shaking him harshly. Oikawa feels the movement, and it kind of hurts, but his eyes are drifting closed, and he doesn't feel that cold anymore despite the snowstorm whipping around him. The stranger shouts something unintelligible, lost in the storming wind and snow. Oikawa is shaken again, and this time, it jostles his knee. He groans weakly, the world swimming in a blur of blue and white.

He's just _so tired._

The stranger's face finally comes into view. His hair is spiky, partially covered by a blue parka, and his eyes are wide, expression a strange mixture of worry and anger as he says something that Oikawa still can't hear, lips moving and breath coming out as tiny clouds of vapor.

He is the last thing Oikawa sees before he succumbs to the pain and cold, and the world fades into soft darkness.

* * *

_"_ _My prince," Hanamaki says, bowing in an exaggerated, sarcastic motion. He can do that because they are alone_ — _the rest of the crew are in the mess hall. Oikawa rolls his eyes at him and leans across the guardrail of the ship, shooting his friend a grin._

_"_ _Quit it, Makki. I told you that it's not necessary, even if you are being sarcastic about it."_

_Hanamaki flashes him a mischievous smile as he straightens. His Fire Nation armor clangs against metal as he positions himself next to Oikawa, his arms resting lightly on the railing. They look out across the sea at the fast approaching icebergs. All is silent save the rolling waves for a long moment, until Hanamaki shifts, looking pointedly at Oikawa's hand._

_"_ _Your father's letter arrived."_

_Oikawa's fist clenches around the crumpled piece of parchment._

_"_ _Yes," he confirms bitterly. "It did."_

_"_ _So..." Hanamaki prompts slowly, "good news or bad news?"_

_Oikawa sighs. His father loves him, but he puts the priority of the Nation over his own family. He understands, but he doesn't like it._

_"_ _Neither," he says bitterly. "He doesn't have time to, you know, give his son advice on how to be diplomatic to the water tribes. Instead, it's, oh, Tooru, I'm trusting you with this menial task that I'm too busy to do, don't screw up!"_

_Hanamaki winces and pats Oikawa gently on the shoulder._

_"_ _Hey," he says quietly. "Don't_ — _"_

 _"_ _I know, I know, Makki," Oikawa interrupts in a falsely cheery voice. "It's fine. Father is the Fire Lord, after all. I need some sort of diplomatic experience anyway, and father can't just trapeze across the ocean to visit a tiny tribe. It's_ — _it's better if I do it."_

_Hanamaki makes a quick noise of acknowledgement._

_"_ _Stop thinking about it so hard," he says. "Honestly, what would you be doing if you were still at the palace? Training, strolling around the garden...doing your hair for hours at a time_ — _"_

_"_ _Hey! I do not!"_

_"_ _You totally do, and that's not the point, idiot."_

_Oikawa pouts. "Don't speak to your prince that way."_

_Hanamaki snorts at him._

_"_ _Whatever you say, your majesty. But really, back to what I was saying. You'd be really bored if we didn't come on this trip." He pauses for a moment and looks out across the glistening ice. There are a million different shades of blue and purple within the frozen water, shades that are rarely seen in the warmth and humidity of the Fire Nation. "We wouldn't get to see this gorgeous view."_

_Oikawa grins. Makki is right, as usual_ — _it is gorgeous here, and Oikawa loves the sense of adventure that he gets from travelling. This is why Oikawa made Makki his advisor._

 _A breeze flutters past them, and Oikawa shivers. He's only wearing a thin robe_ — _long sleeved, yes, but it isn't thick enough for the North Pole._

_Makki catches the movement and shakes his head. "Idiot," he says, but his tone is fond. "Go put some warmer clothes on. It's freezing out here."_

_Oikawa sighs and nods, turning on his heel and heading towards the door leading into the underbelly of the ship._

_Oikawa reaches for the doorknob, but before he can open the door, he hears something on the other side_ — _it's a familiar sound, since he hears it every time he bends. It's the snap hiss sound of flames, and it puzzles him, because who would be bending inside the ship at a time like th_ — _?_

_He never has the chance to finish that thought, because a moment later, the entire doorway explodes, and Oikawa is engulfed in a whirlwind of light and heat. For a moment, he is airborne._

_Then he crashes into the deck hard, and the breath is knocked out of his lungs._

_"_ _Oikawa!" Hanamaki yells, panic painting his tone, and Oikawa blinks the stars out of his eyes to see Makki launch himself forwards just in time to redirect a large fireball that would have hit Oikawa directly in the face._

_"_ _Move!" Hanamaki screams, and Oikawa rolls to his feet, still gasping for breath. Makki dissipates another fireball, as Oikawa positions himself behind him, falling instinctively into his firebending stance. He scans the deck for the source of the threat_ —

_No._

_No, this can't be happening._

_Their crew. Oikawa's loyal, strong, powerful crew, handpicked by his father… or supposedly loyal, it seems. Every single one of them, even the nonbenders, have armed themselves, and are facing them with leers on their faces._

_Please, let this be some sort of horrific dream._

_"_ _What are you doing?" Oikawa snaps, expertly managing to keep the tremor out of his voice. "Stand down, immediately!"_

_Their captain, a large man whom Oikawa had trained with periodically throughout their trip, steps forward. Hanamaki stares him down fearlessly, and Oikawa's eyes widen as the man draws his sword with one hand and summons flames in the other._

_"_ _Sorry, your majesty," he says, words twisted with sarcasm. "But Ushijima's paying us a pretty price for your death. It's nothing personal, really… actually, we're quite fond of you. But, you know," he shrugs nonchalantly and flashes a sly smile, "business is business."_

_"_ _Oikawa," Hanamaki growls, "get back."_

_Oikawa is having problems moving. He stares, in shock, at the gathered men and opens his mouth to give the order again (he's still in denial, he can't believe this, he's been betrayed by_ Ushijima, _of all people_ — _), but before he can get a single word out the crew launches a bombardment of flames towards them. Makki struggles to redirect such a large onslaught, stumbling a step backwards as the flames lick past him._

 _Oikawa refuses to watch Makki hurt because of him, so he steps forward and joins his power with his friend's, pushing the flames back a small bit. Hanamaki grunts in wordless protest, but Oikawa silences him with a raised hand. Makki falls quiet_ — _they have never needed words to communicate effectively._

 _The attacking flames die down for a moment, and Oikawa sucks in a deep breath. "Gentlemen," he says in his best impression of his father. "Let's be reasonable about this_ — _"_

_"_ _Don't," the captain says, eyes narrowing. "You can't convince us to back down. We've already been paid, and Ushijima will have our heads if we don't kill you."_

_Hanamaki growls and widens his stance._

_"_ _You'll have to get through me, first."_

_"_ _Makki_ — _" Oikawa warns, but Hanamaki cuts him off._

_"_ _Don't be an idiot. I've protected you for years, and I'm not about to stop now."_

_The crew is impatient, and one charges Makki while his attention is turned away, driving a knife towards Makki's ribs. Hanamaki sidesteps to avoid it and kicks him over the side of the boat with a stream of fire from his foot. The move, while well-executed, leaves Oikawa without defense for a split second, and the crew sees the opening and takes advantage of it. Oikawa's eyes widen as he and Makki are separated, and suddenly there are weapon wielding_ traitors _on all sides of him._

_"_ _Get him!" someone shouts, and Oikawa yelps, twisting to the side as a sword narrowly misses his nose._

_"_ _Oikawa!" Makki yells, but he's being herded in the opposite direction. Oikawa grits his teeth in frustration and twists his body to avoid a knife and a stream of flames._

_"_ _I don't want to fight you," Oikawa warns. "Stop this now, and I'll make sure your crimes are pardoned_ — _"_

_No one answers him, and Oikawa rolls to avoid a flaming kick that would have connected with his head. To the side Hanamaki is already going all-out, his war cries mixed with the sounds of roaring flames and shouts as his opponents are beaten down._

_Oikawa knows neither of them can keep this up for long. He is dodging desperately now, dancing frantically in the middle of a circle of sharp points. Even as he moves, one man gets lucky, and his knife grazes Oikawa's leg. Oikawa hisses in pain._

_It's time to get serious. Well, he did warn them._

_He raises his hands and calls on the lightning. Electricity races across his fingertips, sending tingles through his entire body. The air around him is suddenly filled with the scent of ozone._

_The crew backs off slightly. They know what he's capable of_ — _after all, they've watched him train here for weeks. Oikawa stares them down, blue light crackling between his hands. For a split second he considers showing them mercy, but then he hears Hanamaki cry out in pain, and his gaze hardens._

_His ex-crew are enemies of the crown, and deserve no mercy._

_He fires the lightning bolt, and a column of men fall. Oikawa tries not to remember their names, and immediately summons another blast._

_For a while, they manage to hold out. They're doing surprisingly well against such overwhelming numbers. Oikawa is surprised that they've held their ground for so long. Maybe, if they can keep this up_ —

_The second he begins to think along those lines, everything goes wrong._

_The crew's efforts are redoubled, and suddenly Oikawa finds himself desperately defending himself from multiple blasts of fire on several sides. With a flurry of moves he twists in the air and launches his own attack with an expert kick, but his precise movements can't compete with the sheer amount of flames rushing towards him._

_He gets burned. Once. Twice._

_He's tired, too. The cold air, combined with the constant dodging and combat, saps his energy far too quickly._

_Suddenly, the crew holds back. Oikawa grins at them despite his exhaustion._

_"_ _Getting tired? I could do this all day."_

_"_ _I wouldn't be getting too cocky, Prince," a voice says, and suddenly Oikawa is slammed into from behind, and he's thrown across the deck, landing up against the metal railing of the ship. He cries out in pain, and Hanamaki whips around at the sound. He can't do anything, can't help, because he is surrounded by his own attackers._

_Oikawa is on his own._

_The captain stalks towards the fallen prince as Oikawa drags himself to his feet._

_"_ _You die here, Oikawa Tooru," the captain says, and launches himself at Oikawa. Oikawa dodges his first fireball and leaps into the air, kicking out a wave of flame and following it up with a thin, whip-like stream, lashing out at the captain. The captain ducks under his first attack and sidesteps the second, and throws his arms out in a sweeping arc. A torrent of fire rushes from his hands, and Oikawa is battered against the edge of the ship as he deflects it._

_"_ _You can't keep this up forever!" the captain shouts, and Oikawa glowers at him and bends a column of flame into existence. The column begins to twist and shake until Oikawa has a flaming tornado at his command. He directs it, without hesitation, at the captain, and the resulting explosion temporarily blinds him for a split second._

_As he struggles to adjust to the lighting again, a hand wraps around his throat, and he is slammed into the ground onto his back. He cries out in pain as he is pinned there by a heavy body, and a knife is pressed firmly against his neck._

_That had been stupid; to use a move he commonly practiced on this very deck against the crew. They had watched him do it a thousand times, so of course they had known how to avoid it._

_Now he will pay for the mistake with his life._

_The captain hovers over him, keeping his hands tightly pressed to the deck above his head with one hand and holding the knife at his throat with the other. Oikawa swallows and feels the edge of the blade prick his skin._

_"_ _And so ends the Prince of the Fire Nation, Oikawa Tooru," the captain mutters, and Oikawa closes his eyes._

_"_ _TOORU!"_

_There is a scream and then a roar, and suddenly the hefty weight of the captain is lifted off of him. Oikawa sucks in a hasty breath and rolls, scrambling to his feet and ignoring the tiny droplets of blood that trickle down his neck from the nick. Hanamaki is standing in front of him once again, and his mouth is open in a roar, massive streams of fire coming out of both fists and slamming into the captain. His back is hunched and one of his arms is bloody, but other than that he seems fine, and Oikawa breathes a sigh of relief, wearily preparing himself to join the fight again._

_Hanamaki, as if sensing this, turns his head without letting up his attack._

_"_ _Get out of here, idiot! Run!"_

_"_ _A Prince doesn't run!" Oikawa hisses back, but Hanamaki finally turns towards him and grabs him as he moves, heading straight for the edge of the ship._

_"_ _M-Makki!" Oikawa gasps out as he is dragged along, and Hanamaki speaks as he runs, sparing a quick glance at their ex-crew._

_"_ _Oikawa, they're after the throne-well, Ushijima is after the throne. Your father is most likely dead, and if we don't move_ now, _you will be too." He shoves Oikawa closer towards the edge of the ship and spins just in time to deflect a fireball._

_"_ _Where are we going to go?" Oikawa shouts at him, gesturing wildly at the surrounding ice. "It's frozen wasteland in every direction!"_

_The crew is far too close now, and there are too many for them to fight against. The captain pushes his way to the front of the angry crowd._

_"_ _Give up, Prince. Come to your death with some sort of dignity."_

_Hanamaki snarls and Oikawa bristles in anger, punching out to launch a fireball at the man, but to his disdain the attack is dodged with ease._

_"_ _I'm not about to roll over and die just because Ushiwaka says so," Oikawa hisses, and suddenly Hanamaki stiffens in front of him. As they watch in muted horror, a completely fresh group of their crew storms onto the deck, raising their hands in preparation to attack._

_"_ _Oikawa." Makki's voice is low. "Run."_

_"_ _Makki, I won't_ — _"_

_"_ _Tooru, get out of here!"_

_Oikawa isn't stupid. He knows what Makki is trying to do. "I won't leave you!" he protests, grabbing his friend's shoulder._

_Hanamaki swears colorfully and knocks Oikawa's hand away. He twists his head to lock his own gaze with Oikawa's, and the prince blinks at the furious expression on his face. Makki stares at him for a few harsh seconds before his face softens, and he smiles at Oikawa briefly, small and apologetic._

_"_ _Don't hate me for this."_

_And then suddenly he puts both hands on Oikawa's chest and shoves, and Oikawa tumbles over the guardrail and into open air._

_He falls for what seems like an eternity. Oikawa flails in midair like a baby bird, struggling to right himself before he hits the unforgiving ice below. He succeeds, but he isn't able to get himself into a good position to roll and soften the impact. He hits the frozen surface wrong, and his leg twists, pain spiking up to focus in his knee. A shout rips its way from his mouth. For a while he can't even move, eyes wide and mouth open in a wordless cry of agony and shock._

_It hurts._

_The ship continues to move, and when Oikawa opens his eyes it is to see that it is already in the distance_ — _how long had he been incapacitated?_

_Although it is far away, he can still dimly make out flashes of bright flames erupting on the top of the boat. Makki is still fighting strong, and Oikawa knows that his friend will continue to fight until he can no longer move. He would never allow himself to be captured by enemies of the crown._

_In other words, he will die protecting his Prince._

_Oikawa feels sick and dizzy, both from the pain and from fear. He can't quite make out identities at this distance, but he knows what it means when the raging flames suddenly go out._

_"_ _No," he whispers hoarsely, watching as the distant ship continues on its path. "No, no… Makki!"_

_He tries to stand, because he has to help Hanamaki, but a sharp bolt of agony runs through the nerves in his leg, and once again he crumples, falling uncoordinatedly into the snow._

_Gasping, he lifts his head, and can only watch as the ship, his traitor crew, and his best friend are carried away on the current._

_He is cold, and he is alone._

* * *

"Makki," Oikawa gasps, eyes flying open, and immediately screams in pain. His fists clench involuntarily, and his throat aches from the cry.

"Oi, be quiet," someone grumbles, and Oikawa gasps when something prods his leg again. "You aren't dying."

Oikawa blinks deliriously, only half-registering the spoken words, and bites down on his lip to stop the whimper from escaping his lips when fingers ghost over his knee.

Princes don't whimper. It's not dignified.

"You—I—where am I?" Oikawa finally gasps out, squinting around at his surroundings. He's in… a… an igloo?

"Northern Water Tribe," the voice grunts, and Oikawa shifts his gaze to look around the room. There are furs everywhere, and Oikawa is lying down on the bed in the center of the room. "This is the healing hut. I found you out on the ice."

For the first time, Oikawa's eyes rest on the speaker, and he isn't surprised to see that it is indeed the same person as before—the one with spiky hair and green eyes.

"Um… thanks for that," Oikawa says awkwardly, and then clenches his teeth and tosses his head back when the stranger grabs his leg to hold it still.

"Don't move," the stranger says, and Oikawa watches as he skillfully lifts his hand and bends a globe of water into the air. His movements are smooth, but there is underlying power to them, and his muscles flex as he sends the water to hover over Oikawa's knee.

Here the stranger pauses, and closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath. Oikawa is about to ask what he's doing when suddenly the water starts to glow, and then the stranger puts the water on his knee.

Instantly the pain is dulled, and Oikawa gasps in relief, jaw falling open in amazement. The pain isn't completely gone, but as he watches, the stranger's eyes furrow in concentration, and the water glows with more intensity than before. Oikawa winces and clenches his teeth as bones scrape together and something pops in his knee, but immediately after a soothing coolness encompasses the area. He exhales in grateful relief as the waterbender lifts the water away and lowers it back into the bowl on the small table.

"Oh," Oikawa says, cautiously bending the joint. His eyes widen when it barely even twinges. "That… thank you," he says sincerely, lifting his gaze to the stranger again.

"No problem," the waterbender says gruffly. He narrows his eyes as Oikawa tries to sit up and hisses as the burns on his arms make themselves known.

"Don't move yet," he says, and bends more water to Oikawa's skin again.

For a few awkward moments, all is silent except the faint hum of the glowing water over Oikawa's arms. It is extremely soothing, and Oikawa sighs at the calming feeling.

"Um… what's your name?" he asks hesitantly.

The waterbender doesn't look up from his healing, but his expression softens slightly.

"Iwaizumi Hajime," he answers. He moves after that, lifting the water back into the container in a fluid motion of one arm. Oikawa raises his arms to inspect them—they don't even sting, and the skin looks untarnished.

"Amazing," he whispers. He had heard of the famous waterbending healing before, but this was the first time he had ever seen how effective it was.

Eyes wide, he looks towards Iwaizumi and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

Iwaizumi is wiping his face. He looks exhausted, and sweat drips down the side of his face. Oikawa hadn't considered it, but healing must be extremely taxing, especially healing of such a large scale.

"You're lucky full moon is coming up," Iwaizumi says. "Otherwise I'm not sure if I would have been able to fix that."

"Thank you," Oikawa said again. "I would have died without your…"

He trails off, because he suddenly remembers something that he should not have forgotten.

"Makki," he breathes, and stands abruptly. He has to go back to the ship and find out what happened to him.

Before he can take a step, however, he is suddenly shoved backwards, and a blade of ice digs into his throat. Iwaizumi looks angry, and suspicious, but Oikawa doesn't care.

"Oh, come on," he hisses, glaring back at Iwaizumi's glower. "This is the second time I've been attacked today, and I need to see if my friend is _alive,_ thank you. Get out of the way." His flames would be weak right now because of the cold, but they're still usable, and as grateful as Oikawa is for Iwaizumi's help he isn't afraid to use his bending if necessary.

Hanamaki's life is at stake.

(Assuming he isn't already dead.)

"You aren't going anywhere until I get some answers," Iwaizumi snarls. "You appeared outside our tribe in the middle of a snowstorm, wearing nothing but a flimsy Fire Nation robe and looking like something the cat dragged in." He ignores Oikawa's yelp of protest and grabs his shirt in a rough grip. "What about that isn't suspicious?"

Oikawa takes a deep breath. He needs to stay calm. What would his father do in this situation?

He exhales and slowly raises his hands into the air.

"My name is Oikawa Tooru," he says to Iwaizumi. When the waterbender's face shows no sign of recognition, Oikawa continues. "I am the Prince of the Fire Nation, and I was on my way here on a diplomatic, routine mission to meet with your leaders."

"Well, that obviously went well," Iwaizumi mutters sarcastically. "Why were you out in the middle of a snowstorm, idiot?"

Oikawa scoffs, because despite Iwaizumi now knowing he is royalty, his tone has not changed at all. It's disrespectful.

"It wasn't by choice!" he snaps. "I was betrayed by a cousin at home—he hired my crew to kill me, and the only reason I'm not dead is because—" he swallows painfully, "is because a friend sacrificed himself for me."

Iwaizumi stares at him for a moment, and then steps away, his ice blade melting in an instant and dripping down to the floor.

"How do I know you aren't lying?" he asks, but before Oikawa can answer him, the flap of cloth covering the entrance of the igloo is shoved aside, and a figure dashes through, panting for breath.

"Iwaizumi!" the person yells, and then coughs twice, struggling to breathe. Iwaizumi's eyes widen, and he turns away from Oikawa to grab the person's shoulders gently.

"Kunimi, breath," Iwaizumi orders. After a few moments, he nods his head. "Now, tell me what's going on."

Kunimi straightens, and there is poorly contained fear in his eyes.

"There are ships coming towards us, cutting through the ice in the distance!" he says. "They'll be here in an hour—Suga thinks they're Fire Nation, he sent me to get you. He and the others are already up on the wall—"

Iwaizumi swears and rounds on Oikawa angrily, fire in his eyes. Oikawa flinches back at his rage.

"They're probably looking for _you,"_ he growls. He moves to leave, and Oikawa blinks at his retreating back.

"Wait!" he calls after him. "You really think that the Fire Nation could send up ships this far north within a day of the betrayal?"

Iwaizumi pauses.

"A day?" he says tonelessly. "You were asleep for three, and I spent all of them working on that leg that you messed up."

Oikawa gasps and stares at him in shock. "Why wasn't that the first thing you told me?"

Iwaizumi shrugs.

"You didn't ask. And I'd say whoever wants you dead didn't wait to send those ships after you. It was probably planned since the beginning." His words are grim and his fists clench as he speaks, and then he turns and leaves, following Kunimi.

Oikawa blinks, not completely understanding his words for a moment before it hits him.

Iwaizumi is suggesting that Ushijima had been planning to send ships out, even before he knew Oikawa had survived his attempted assassination.

Ushijima had planned on launching an attack on the Northern Water tribe since the beginning. He was going to start a war.

The shock of that realization makes Oikawa's breath begin to come out in short, panicked bursts, because this means that his father is dead, for sure. And his mother, and sister, and nephew—

He feels like he's going to be sick.

His hands are trembling, and he clenches them around the sides of the bed as he sinks down to sit on it again.

_Please, please just let this all be a bad dream._

He pinches himself, once, to see if he can make it stop, but nothing happens.

Oikawa tilts his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the twin tears that run down his cheeks.

He is, currently, the sole heir of the Fire Nation.

He can't afford to grieve for long, even though it _hurts_ and he is _terrified._ Ushijima has killed his family and started a war, and as the Crown Prince, Oikawa can't just allow that to happen.

His father is dead, so it is his own responsibility to stop Ushijima and save his people.

It is a _huge, incomprehensible_ burden for him to suddenly take on, but if he does not, who will? This is what he was raised in preparation for, after all.

He takes a deep breath to steady himself and wipes his face with the back of his hand. He doesn't have any more time to cry. The Fire Nation is coming, and Oikawa can't sit in a healing hut while the people that saved his life fight for their tribe.

Oikawa steels himself and gets to his feet, crossing the room and shoving his grief to the back of his mind. He has more important things to worry about.

There is a parka resting on a little wooden table next to the covered opening of the igloo. Oikawa pauses for a moment before putting it on, and then pushes his way outside.

The sky is clear, but the sun is weak, as it always is in the North Pole. Oikawa sighs as the light hits his skin anyway, rejuvenating him and filling his limbs with more energy. The Northern Water Tribe is fairly small. There are well-crafted igloos (probably bended) scattered around the area, with small fire pits placed between them. Oikawa takes a moment to focus on one, taking comfort in the tiny pulses of life he can sense from the crackling flames.

"Excuse me."

Oikawa yelps and whips around, raising one arm defensively at the sudden voice.

"You are Oikawa Tooru, correct?" the beautiful woman says, and Oikawa's eyes widen as he takes in the Water Tribe garb and long black hair.

"Um," he says intelligently, but she is already turning away, gesturing for him to follow.

She leads him through the camp, and Oikawa is surprised to see only a few people milling about the igloos, and they are all either warriors or benders—he doesn't see any children.

As if reading his mind, the woman glances back at him, not stopping her long stride.

"We have evacuated those who cannot fight to the ice plains north of here. They will be safe for now."

Oikawa nods and swallows nervously. It's a smart move by the Tribe, but isn't a permanent solution. He has come to the conclusion that the Water Tribe knows they do not stand a chance, but they prepare to fight anyway, to defend their homes and families.

They approach the edge of the tribe. The entire perimeter is surrounded by a large and fairly impressive ice wall, but there is no path to get to the top. He is about to say something when she lifts her hands and makes a graceful upward motion, and suddenly they are shooting upwards on a pillar of ice. Oikawa does his best to maintain his balance, but when they get to the top he stumbles and nearly faceplants into the snow as he steps off onto the wall, barely catching himself in time.

When he rights himself, two pairs of eyes land on him—one weary but good-natured, and the other glaring in annoyance. Iwaizumi scoffs and turns away after a moment, but the other Tribe member, a silver-haired man with a soft smile, offers Oikawa a little bow devoid of sarcasm or teasing.

"Prince Tooru," he says, and Oikawa blinks in surprise.

"You know who I am?"

"Of course—I'm the Northern Water Tribe's diplomatic representative, and the son of the Chieftain," the man answers brightly. "My name is—"

"Oh," Oikawa interrupts. "You're Sugawara, right?" That was the name of the man he had been supposed to meet with during this mission, but obviously things hadn't turned out like that.

Sugawara chuckles. "I am," he says. "But you're welcome to call me Suga."

Oikawa nods at him and returns the smile. Suga's personality is bright and refreshing, and it is a nice change from the grumpiness that Iwaizumi showed him.

"Thank you, Kiyoko," Suga says to the beautiful girl who had guided Oikawa earlier. "I appreciate it." She nods, but her jaw is clenched, and she is moving before anyone can say anything else, brushing past Oikawa coldly and striding away across the wall towards a group of other warriors.

Suga sighs, and his head droops slightly. Oikawa can see the signs of a good leader under stress in his body language, and a pang of guilt hits him. This is all his fault.

"Sorry," Suga mutters. "We're all a bit on edge, I suppose."

They look out across the ocean in front of them, and there are blurs approaching from a long ways off-the Fire Nation ships.

"I… sorry," Oikawa says quietly. He isn't quite sure how to respond to that, and Suga blinks at him before moving closer, getting into his personal space.

"Hey, hey," he protests. "Listen to me. This isn't your fault. You're just as much of a victim as we are."

Oikawa shakes his head.

"I could have—could have done something. I should have—"

"What would you have done? The only way to maybe avoid this would have been for you to lose your life, and it seems like your cousin was planning to attack us even before he found out you survived anyway, so that wouldn't have done anything anyway."

Oikawa is surprised that he knows that much, and Suga picks up on his confusion, grinning at him softly.

"You talk a lot in your sleep."

"Great," Oikawa groans. "What else do you know?"

Suga closes his eyes for a moment.

"If you don't mind me asking… who is Makki?"

Oikawa flinches at the name, turning his head to the side so the waterbenders won't see the expression of pain and fear that flashes across his face.

He can't allow them to see how scared he really is.

"Makki—" his voice nearly breaks, but he swallows and continues, "Makki was a close friend. My advisor. He… he saved me from my potential assassins at the cost of his own—" He stops here because he doesn't want to say it, and luckily Suga doesn't make him.

"I see," he says. Then he steps forward and claps his hand across Oikawa's shoulder, a silent pillar of support, and Oikawa relaxes at the feeling. "I am sorry for your loss—for _all_ of your losses. I can't imagine—"

"Suga," Iwaizumi interrupts, and Suga immediately turns his gaze towards the Fire Nation ships. Iwaizumi points upward. "Look."

Oikawa lifts his head slowly, and shudders when he sees it.

Black snow. Soot.

The Fire Nation has brought an army.

"Go sound the alarm," Suga says grimly. He raises his voice so that his shout can be heard all across the wall. "They're coming! Everyone get ready!"

The waterbenders move as one and slide into bending stances with a grace that Oikawa could never hope to match. In an impressive show of balance and power, they move as one, gesturing towards the sea and snow on the outside of the walls, and pull it up against the barriers, where it hardens into ice. The wall thickens, strong with nearly impenetrable frozen water.

"Right," Suga says, turning towards him as Iwaizumi and the rest of the benders continue to strengthen their fortifications. "I didn't tell you why I called you up here in the first place." He is still dead serious, and Oikawa realizes that Suga's entire way of life is at stake here. "Listen to me. My Tribe and I will support you and help you to get the throne back. Your father was a good man, I spoke with him on several occasions. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stop Ushijima from starting this war he's so intent on beginning."

Oikawa feels his heart swell up in gratefulness to the silver-haired bender. This is all happening so _fast_ —it has literally only been about an hour since he woke up in the healing tent with Iwaizumi hovering over him. He feels completely overwhelmed by this entire situation—but Suga is willing to support him, and even though he just barely met the man, he feels like he could cry in relief.

"So," Suga continues, "I need your help right now. I need you to tell me anything you can about how the Fire Nation might attack us."

Oikawa balks at that for a second on instinct before he remembers that the Tribe will be slaughtered if he doesn't tell them. And at this point, his loyalty to his nation is… slightly complicated. He has nothing to lose. He takes a deep breath.

"I'll tell you everything I know," Oikawa says, and Suga dips his head in thanks, turning back towards the approaching ships in the distance.

"We will fight to defend our home," Suga says, and Iwaizumi makes a little sound of agreement behind him. "We won't let Ushijima just take what he wants."

Oikawa nods with their words, and feels a wild wave of courage and strength rise up within him.

He won't let Ushijima win without a fight.

* * *

The guard comes down the hallway, and Kuroo watches as they pass by his hiding spot with the clank of heavy, Fire Nation boots.

This is dangerous, he knows. But he doesn't have another choice-he needs to do this _now,_ before Ushijima suspects him of something. Already he is unsure of Kuroo's loyalty, and if Kuroo gives him even _one_ reason to suspect him, he knows he will not wake up in his bed the next morning.

He pokes his head out of cover and sees that the coast is clear. It is a simple matter from there to slip into the hallway and make his way silently to the messenger hawk mailroom.

He had changed out of his heavy royal guard armor before he came here, so his footsteps are light and quiet when he moves. He would be questioned too much if he were found in his own Royal Guard armor here, anyway. These are the foot soldier barracks, but Ushijima's spies goes through all of the mail sent out through the palace, so Kuroo can't send his letters from there.

He reaches the door and holds his breath as he opens it, exhaling in relief when no one is there. Most of the hawks are asleep, but a few shuffle as he slips in—luckily none are annoyed enough by his presence to screech at him, and he is thankful for that.

The letter is small—a single piece of parchment, tightly rolled and tied with a little section of twine. Kuroo stares at it for a moment. It is _so incredibly important,_ and it _must_ get to the right people. Kuroo's position at the Fire Palace is good—it allows him to be close to Ushijima at all times as one of his guards—but a single slip up will mean his execution, and he can't afford to be caught personally leaving the area when he's suppose to be guarding the "Fire Lord's" bedchamber.

A messenger hawk is the best he can do.

He selects a bird at random. They all look the same to him, he isn't very good with them, either. They tend to snap at his fingers if he gets too close—

Footsteps.

Heavy and clunky, signifying armor, and fairly close—coming around the corner and moving towards the room.

Kuroo has no time to hide, and panic suddenly seizes at his chest.

He _cannot_ be caught. He's put too much time, dedication, and pain (the death of the Oikawa family haunts him each night) to be stopped now.

So, the second the guard pushes open the door, Kuroo launches himself at his opponent. He doesn't want to use his bending, simply because fire isn't a very subtle element, and uses the guard's surprised hesitation to grab at the man's neck under his helmet—if he can get it at just the right angle, maybe he can—

"Kuroo!" the guard hisses frantically, reeling backwards, and Kuroo freezes, hands loosely wrapped around the man's trachea. The voice is familiar, and Kuroo groans quietly, releasing his prisoner. He swears softly.

"Bokuto, I nearly killed you—"

"But you didn't!" Bokuto whispers defensively, rubbing at his neck, and Kuroo sighs, moving back to his messenger hawk.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. Bokuto takes off the clumsy guard helmet in a smooth motion, tucking it under one arm, and in the moonlight his golden eyes gleam with a seriousness that Kuroo normally only sees on Bokuto when he's in the middle of an intense fight.

"I came to back up my best friend, of course. Idiot. Why else would I be here?"

Kuroo frowns at him.

"Listen, we can't both be caught—we can't be seen together."

"Honestly," Bokuto huffs. "We won't—neither of us will get caught. These are my barracks, I'll say you're with me."

Kuroo tries to get his messenger hawk to stick it's leg out, but it narrows its eyes at him and ruffles its feathers petulantly. He doesn't reply to Bokuto, and a moment later he feels his friend grab his arm carefully.

"Hey, hey, hey," Bokuto says, although it lacks the usual volume and enthusiasm, and he moves so that his gaze is even with Kuroo's. "You've been off since the coup, bro. It's tough for all of us, and you can't keep doing this to yourself. It wasn't your fault, you know—"

Kuroo's vision suddenly tunnels, and pictures flash before his eyes.

 _The Fire Lord and Lady are surrounded by flames. Kuroo and the rest of the Royal Guard fight to keep their assailants at bay, but there are just so many_ —

 _Ushijima steps into the room, and as his gaze sweeps over the area_ — _his eyes focus on Kuroo for only a split second before moving to their Nation's leaders_ —

 _A knife digs deep into his side, and Kuroo shouts from the pain before kicking his attacker away. Ushijima is coming, he's getting closer to the Fire Lady, Kuroo needs to go, go go move move MOVE NOW_ — _!_

_The Fire Lady's blood is crimson red, the same color as her dress._

_Her husband falls soon after, and Kuroo screams at the men holding him down, thrashing against their iron grips._

_The Royal Guards are completely helpless, and they watch in horror as Ushijima takes the crown for himself, one member of the royal family falling after another._

_Ushijima stands over the surviving members of the Royal Guard, face impassive, ignorant of the tremendous red stain running down the front of his robe. "You will serve me," he says. "I will break you if I must."_

_Some fight him at first, but Ushijima is brutal, and deep, lashing burns cover each of their bodies. Only a few days have passed when the first man caves, swearing himself into Ushijima's service with a heaving sob._

_They each break, one after another._

_Kuroo is last. He grits his teeth, but he cannot move, and Ushijima is relentless and powerful. His mind is numb with pain, and every inch of his skin burns._

_"_ _You are not like the rest of them," Ushijima whispers into his ear at one point, when Kuroo has nearly passed out in agony. "Strong, and more loyal than most. I want you."_

_He holds out for as long as he can, but he can't last forever._

_He breaks._

_It's all his fault._

"...roo, Kuroo, come on, come back to me, it's fine, everything's fine, Kuroo—"

He is curled up into a ball on the floor with his eyes squeezed firmly shut. He does not want to open them. He's shaking, too. Uncontrollably. He can't control his breathing.

"Kuroooooooo. Listen to me, you're not there, it's not real. It's just a flashback, open your eyes, come on…"

Slowly Kuroo becomes aware of a hand pressed on his back, and a second one running through his hair. Bokuto.

He slowly opens his eyes and blinks at how close Bokuto is. The soldier is peering at him anxiously, although he tries to hide it with a quick smile when he sees that Kuroo is looking at him.

"Hey," he greets softly. "You alright?"

Kuroo shudders, struggling to clear the gruesome pictures in his mind away, and focuses on Bokuto's face instead.

"Bo… Bokuto," he says shakily. "I—the Fire Lord, we _failed them, we couldn't_ — _"_

"You did _no such thing,"_ Bokuto snarls, and Kuroo flinches away from his rage, because it is a rare and dangerous thing when Bokuto uses that tone of voice. "You all did your best—you were overwhelmed, and Ushijima is far more powerful than any other firebender we've encountered before."

Kuroo exhales.

"But I swore my oath to him, even after what he did, I _couldn't_ —"

"You swore under _torture_ and the threatening of others," Bokuto growls, and his grip on Kuroo's back tightens for a moment before it loosens again. "And if I hear you try to blame this on yourself _one more time,_ I swear, Kuroo…"

"You weren't there," Kuroo bites out, swallowing a sob and clenching his fists. "You weren't there, you didn't see, Bo, it was horrible, we couldn't—everything was—"

Bokuto is patient with him, and shushes him quietly, stroking his hair. Kuroo remembers a time when Bokuto never would have been mature enough to handle this sort of situation—but people change with the times, and Bokuto has recently exhibited an amount of restraint mixed in with his usual antics. Kuroo has never been more grateful for it, despite his own love for their normal shenanigans.

He hates this. Kuroo hates this fear inside him, so much. He is terrified of Ushijima, and it is _not right._ Kuroo is ( _was_ ) a proud member of the Royal Guard of the Fire Nation, tasked with protecting their Lord and Lady… and he had failed, and been forced to betray his country, because of one man.

Ushijima's loyal spies are everywhere. Kuroo is lucky he has Bokuto for support, because he knows that without his friend, he would have collapsed under the pressure and terror days ago.

Bokuto's presence is incredibly smoothing. The world is slipping back into clarity, and Kuroo's flashback is fading. Slowly he comes back to himself, and he is on the floor in the middle of the Messenger Hawk mail center with a letter clenched in his fist and Bokuto's comforting warmth around him.

This is dangerous. Someone could walk in and see them, and suspect something, but Kuroo can't find the will to care at the moment.

He is tired.

"We can't do this alone," he says, and Bokuto nods.

"You're right," he agrees. "Which is why we're taking this risk, yeah?" He gestures towards the letter. "We're the only ones with access to the palace, there are people counting on us to get them this information."

Bokuto reaches towards a messenger hawk, and it leans into his touch as he strokes it's feathers. Kuroo huffs indignantly—Bokuto has always been good with birds, and he's just a _little_ bit jealous.

The bird shuffles as Bokuto takes the letter from Kuroo and places it in the tube attached to the bird's back.

"The Northern Air Temple," Bokuto says clearly once the bird is comfortable with it's burden. It cocks its head and looks at him, and Kuroo sighs as it raises it's powerful wings and takes off, disappearing out the window above them and vanishing into the night.

"I still don't believe that they're smart enough to know where they're going," Kuroo mumbles, and Bokuto grins at him, a tiny bit of relief shining through in his expression that Kuroo is back to normal.

"They aren't ordinary birds, bro."

"Yes they are," Kuroo says, and Bokuto glares at him.

"Hush, nonbeliever. These are the most incredible birds you will ever see."

Kuroo is silent for a second before he reaches out and grips Bokuto's forearm.

"Bokuto-"

"Kuroo. You don't have to apologize."

Kuroo opens his mouth, but Bokuto shakes his head.

"It's fine. It's not your fault, either. Ushijima—"

Footsteps sound just outside, and they both freeze.

They've been here for too long, but now that Ushijima's had control for over three weeks, they rarely see each other anymore—and Kuroo had his own issues to worry about, being as close to the tyrant as he is every day.

The footsteps pass by them, but neither of them relax.

"We need to—" Kuroo starts to say, but before he can finish Bokuto grabs him and tugs him into a very manly hug.

"Yeah, I know. Stay safe, okay? Don't get caught. I need you. Otherwise I don't think that—" He cuts himself off and his gaze darts to the floor. For the first time, Kuroo can see that Bokuto is just as scared as he is—he just hides it better—and he grips Bokuto tightly before he lets him go.

They don't say anything else, and Bokuto slips out before Kuroo does, putting his helmet back on and clunking away casually. Kuroo glances back at the window the hawk had flown out of once before he turns away and slips out of the room.

A single feather drifts from the open window and lands silently on the floor as the door to the Messenger Hawk room is pulled quietly closed.

* * *

Akaashi had gotten use to Hinata's noise, so when the tiny Avatar suddenly falls silent, he frowns and turns around towards his fellow airbender.

"Hinata, what—" he starts to say, but he freezes in shock when he sees that Hinata's eyes are glowing. Kenma is sitting next to him on the bench, wide-eyed, and one hand reaches up to touch his friend.

"Don't—!" Akaashi says, panicked, and Kenma freezes. Akaashi takes a deep breath to calm himself. He doesn't know very much about the Avatar State, but he knows enough to recognize it, and knows better than to touch Hinata when he's in it.

"Kenma. Fetch Takeda, please. Hurry."

Kenma nods mutely and darts away, using a quick burst of air to speed out of the room.

Akaashi watches Hinata's hair whip around in the breeze that is emanating from his body. Hinata's accessed his Avatar State before, but he's never stayed in a trance for this long. His eyes are still glowing.

The winds are picking up, and Akaashi lifts his hand and bends his bow staff into his palm, spinning it around to create a shield from Hinata's furious torrents of air.

"Akaashi!" someone yells over the howling noise, and suddenly Takeda is there, Kenma close on his heels. Takeda yells something else, too, lifting his arm to shield his face, but Akaashi can't hear him. For a brief moment, he panics—the true extent of Hinata's power has never fully been tested, what if this uncontrollable surge spells the destruction of the temple?

And then, as sudden as it had started, it ends, and Hinata groans and crumples to the floor. The wind dies down almost instantly, and Akaashi blinks as Takeda and Kenma race to the young Avatar's side.

"Hinata, are you alright?" Takeda asks frantically, shaking the boy. "What happened?"

Hinata groans again and rolls over, and his eyes are wide, orange hair standing up almost more than usual. Akaashi clenches his bow staff in his hand at his fearful expression.

"A… a warning," Hinata gasps out. He's trembling, and his voice is quiet. It's so unlike his usual excitable demeanor that Akaashi's eyes widen in surprise. "The past Avatars wanted to warn us. They say…" he trails off, and they all lean in closer as he shudders.

"Fire...there was so much fire—"

"The Fire Nation?" Takeda says. "But we're allied with them. Fire Lord Oikawa—"

"The Fire Nation _has_ been suspiciously quiet for the past few weeks," Akaashi cuts in. Takeda shifts nervously.

"Well, yes, but—"

"My informants in the Fire Nation haven't sent me any news," Kenma says quietly. "And that's rare for them. It's possible that something has happened."

They are silent for a moment, until Hinata speaks up again.

"War is coming," Hinata says seriously. "Something is very, very wrong in the world, and we need to be ready for it."

The very concept of war is terrifying. They are pacifists, their element is not meant for battle.

But even before Hinata can explain more of his vision, Akaashi makes the decision that he will fight.

He will not see his home destroyed a second time.


	2. The Battle of the North Pole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of the North Pole has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Bokuto does not ever remember being this scared before.    
  
He is kneeling before Ushijima—not because he wants to, of course, but because Ushijima is Fire Lord now. He doesn’t have a choice in the matter. He is perfectly aware of what happened to Kuroo and the rest of the Royal Guard at the beginning of Ushijima’s reign.   
  
Ushijima also knows how close the both of them were to the Oikawa family—specifically, Tooru. Bokuto is fully aware of the Fire Lord’s eyes on him—carefully analyzing his every move. He is being tested, and if he is not careful, he will fail…and suffer a fate just like Kuroo did.   
  
Kuroo is present, standing at attention next to Ushijima’s throne with another of the Royal Guard, but he is shifting uneasily—scared, just like Bokuto is.   
  
He misses Fire Lord Oikawa desperately. Ushijima is a tyrant, and he has supporters everywhere. Thanks to his spies, he knows exactly who doesn’t agree with him—and he also knows exactly how to pin those people down so that they can’t do anything about it.    
  
Kuroo is just one of many in that situation, and Bokuto knows that he’s next.   
  
Ushijima stares down at him emotionlessly. Bokuto keeps his head bowed, hands resting formally on the ground. Ushijima is more than a match for both him and Kuroo even if they worked together, and he knows better than to try anything stupid.   
  
After a small eternity, Ushijima hums, and the sound echoes through the chamber.   
  
“You may stand, soldier.”   
  
Bokuto obeys and immediately snaps to attention, staring straight ahead. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Ushijima smile—a sharp and dangerous little thing that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.   
  
“Captain Bokuto Koutarou, welcome,” Ushijima says smoothly. “I have heard a lot about you recently. I was told of your excellent firebending skills from my advisors, and I have a task for you that I would like completed.” His tone suggests that Bokuto doesn’t have a choice in the matter.    
  
“Thank you for considering me, Fire Lord Ushijima. I will follow your orders to the best of my ability,” Bokuto says carefully. Apparently it’s not the right thing to say, because Kuroo suddenly stiffens, but Ushijima doesn’t move, save the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a tiny motion.    
  
“Indeed, I believe you will,” Ushijima says, humor edging his voice, and Bokuto resists the urge to scowl bitterly at him. Kuroo relaxes slightly, a motion that Ushijima doesn’t miss, and the Fire Lord shoots the guard an amused look. His low chuckle sends a shiver down Bokuto’s spine.    
  
“You seem a bit… tense, Tetsurou. Is something wrong?”   
  
Kuroo grits his teeth at the use of his first name and his eyes flash for a second before he lowers his head and lets out a soft, “No, my Lord”, but Ushijima has seen the brief defiance in his expression. He slowly rises from his throne and steps a bit closer to Kuroo, gaze pinning the royal guard in place. Kuroo freezes up, eyes wide, as Ushijima approaches him.   
  
The atmosphere of the room has grown far too hostile for Bokuto’s liking. He cannot move, however, without being accused of disrespect for the Fire Lord, so he holds his ground and watches from the corner of his eye as Ushijima slowly runs the back of his hand across Kuroo’s cheek, just to show that he can. Kuroo lets out a shaky breath, and his fists clench, but he makes no other move to stop the tyrant.    
  
“I am in control here. Remember this,” Ushijima says slowly. “I am no fool—I know you two are very close friends. Are you afraid for Koutarou’s life, Tetsurou?”   
  
Ice jolts through Bokuto’s veins, and a heavy weight settles in his stomach.    
  
So that’s what this is about. It’s a power play, and he’s stuck in the middle. Ushijima’s using him to get to Kuroo.   
  
Kuroo doesn’t answer Ushijima, but the Fire Lord doesn’t seem to require one, turning back towards Bokuto.    
  
“Come here, Captain.”   
  
Bokuto’s breath catches in his throat, and he almost takes a step back as Ushijima stares him down. Kuroo’s eyes are just as wide as his own, and the dread that fills the room is palpable.    
  
Ushijima clicks his tongue.    
  
“Do not make me repeat myself,” he says dangerously, and Bokuto finally moves, muscles jerking forward unsteadily until he is directly in front of the Fire Lord.    
  
“Observe, Tetsurou,” Ushijima says slowly. “See how powerless you are.”   
  
Then he reaches out and grabs Bokuto by the throat.    
  
Bokuto yelps, and Kuroo lets out a strangled “Don’t!” as Ushijima’s fingers clamp around Bokuto’s trachea and lift him into the air. He isn’t that much taller than Bokuto, really, but his arms are long, and Bokuto’s boots scuff the floor as he dangles from Ushijima’s grasp.    
  
“Wait—” Kuroo gasps, stumbling forwards. “Wait, Ushiji—”   
  
“That is not how you will address me,” Ushijima snarls, and the fingers around Bokuto’s throat tighten—Bokuto chokes, and his hands fly up in an attempt to break the Fire Lord’s grasp, but to no avail. His air supply is now completely cut off, and his mouth opens in a futile effort to suck in oxygen.   
  
“No, please,” Kuroo says desperately, dropping to one knee in a formal bow. “My Lord, please. Let him go.”   
  
“Should I?” Ushijima says calmly as Bokuto begins to see spots dancing in front of his eyes. “Have you given me a reason to?”   
  
Kuroo hunches even further into his bow, dropping to both knees and pressing his forehead against the floor, and Bokuto wants to scream.   
  
“Kuroo, don’t—” he starts to force out with the very last dregs of his air, only to be cut off as Ushijima shakes him violently.    
  
“I have already sworn myself to you, My Lord,” Kuroo says, and his voice is shaking just a little. “What else do you want from me?” Hysteria is creeping into his tone. Bokuto chokes, certain that his face is bright purple by now.    
  
It hurts. He needs air.    
  
Ushijima glares at Kuroo, unmoving, and Kuroo’s breaths start to come faster, each inhale full of fear.   
  
“Lord… I’m begging you, please. Don’t hurt him!”   
  
Ushijima lets go without warning, and Bokuto crumples to the floor, gasping and coughing painfully. His throat is definitely bruised, and for a moment, all he can focus on is the quick inhale-exhale of his lungs and the sweet taste of air.   
  
“Bo, are you alright? Bokuto!”   
  
Bokuto coughs once more and rolls over as a hand grabs his shoulder. Kuroo hovers over him, his expression a mixture of pain, guilt, and fear that makes Bokuto feel sick to his stomach.   
  
“I’m—I’m good,” he croaks. “Kuroo—”   
  
“Tetsurou. You’re dismissed. Leave us.”   
  
Kuroo whips around, his eyes widening in horror at Ushijima’s command.   
  
“But—”   
  
“Now.”   
  
Terror is etched onto Kuroo’s face when he turns back around, but Bokuto gathers his remaining energy and sits up, smiling weakly at his friend.   
  
“Get out of here,” he whispers urgently, wincing as his throat flares up in pain. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry!”   
  
Kuroo doesn’t look convinced, but he obeys Ushijima anyway, throwing glances back over his shoulder until the heavy doors at the front of the room finally slam shut behind him.    
  
Bokuto is alone with the Fire Lord and a single remaining member of the Royal Guard, who had looked on impassively as Bokuto was choked nearly to death.    
  
He had been scared before, but this was nearly a hundred times worse.   
  
Ushijima sits back down on the throne and threads his fingers together casually, perfectly composed.   
  
“On your feet,” he orders. Bokuto staggers to a standing position, and does his best to ignore the throbbing bruises ringing his neck.   
  
Ushijima studies him intently for a moment.   
  
“Do you want to know why I did that?” he asks. Bokuto is too wary to give a response, but Ushijima continues anyway. “Tetsurou is smart, and powerful. I would be a fool if I did not utilize his talents to the fullest extent… but it is mostly because he is most entertaining to antagonize. So strong-willed, so proud… and yet, so easily breakable. His defiance has gotten him this far, but I wonder if he can maintain it for much longer.”   
  
Bokuto feels a surge of an emotion that he rarely experiences, even in the heat of battle—hatred. Ushijima is…playing with them. Experimenting. Seeing how much he can push before Kuroo snaps, and gives the tyrant a reason to execute him.   
  
Bokuto is done pretending. In open defiance, he glares at the Fire Lord, trying valiantly to convey every single one of his hateful thoughts into his expression.    
  
He’s still not quite brave enough to speak.   
  
“Ah, I see you aren’t a fan of such methods,” Ushijima says, ignoring Bokuto’s silent rage. “Well, in any case, I do still have a job for you. I have heard you are an excellent leader, so I’ve placed you in charge of a large portion of our offensive army for the upcoming invasion.”   
  
Bokuto freezes. Invasion? What invasion?   
  
“I am expanding Fire Nation borders,” Ushijima says smugly. “The Oikawa family was not nearly ambitious enough in their international relationships. I will change that, even if it means I must burn half the world to the ground.”   
  
Bokuto realizes that Ushijima is deadly serious, and clenches his fists behind his back.   
  
No, no, no. This can’t be happening.   
  
“I wish you good luck in your endeavors, Captain. You’ll find further details in a scroll that has been sent to your quarters. You are dismissed.”   
  
But it is happening, and there’s nothing Bokuto can do about it.   
  
The Fire Nation is going to war.   
  


* * *

  
  
“Get down!” Iwaizumi screams. The fireball slams into the top of the wall, and Iwaizumi prays that no one was hit.   
  
The siege of the North Pole had begun with a crash of flaming rocks slamming into the Tribe’s ice wall, and it has been nearly an hour since.    
  
The fireballs are still coming, and Iwaizumi is at a loss of what to do.    
  
The Fire Nation Prince’s information had been helpful. The Tribe, at least, knows what they are up against. They know that once the Fire Nation breaks down their wall, they will send columns of ground troops and mounted riders onto the ice. They know about the catapults and tanks that the ships have no doubt brought with them—but Iwaizumi isn’t sure if the information will do them any good.    
  
They are hopelessly overwhelmed, but Iwaizumi has never been one to give up without a fight.    
  
“Here comes another round!” someone (he thinks it’s Matsukawa) shouts, and Iwaizumi whips around to see that he’s right—a fresh wave of fire has been launched and is speeding towards them.    
  
“Stand firm! Stop them from destroying our homes!” Suga yells. He is just behind Iwaizumi, with Kiyoko to his right, and Iwaizumi reaches out and bends a column of water skyward with both hands. His water intercepts one of the flaming projectiles in mid-air and freezes it before the projectile’s momentum can push it out the other side of the column.   
  
All around him, other waterbenders do the same. Kunimi’s column crumbles on impact, but it does its job, and their homes remain standing.    
  
“Iwaizumi!”    
  
At the shout, Iwaizumi turns, resisting the urge to snarl in frustration as more fireballs are launched. These ones are aimed more accurately, and several of them skim the top of the wall before they can be stopped.    
  
A few warriors are knocked off, and Iwaizumi feels his heart clench in sorrow.   
  
“Iwaizumi!”    
  
“What?” Iwaizumi roars, lashing his hands upwards, and wild tendrils of water fly into the air in response, knocking three fireballs off course. “I’m a bit busy—!”   
  
Two hands grab him and whirl him around, and suddenly he is facing the Fire Prince. Iwaizumi nearly strikes him before he notices the wild, determined look on the Prince’s face.   
  
“We can’t take much more of this! You’re still losing men, and your forces are already at their limit!”   
  
“You think I don’t know that?” Iwaizumi snarls. He’s trying so hard not to blame this guy for bringing the Fire Nation’s rage, because Suga says that his father was a good Fire Lord, but Iwaizumi wants someone to blame. “What else can we do? We don’t have anywhere to go!”   
  
They both freeze and duck instinctively as a whistling sound comes from behind them. A projectile misses the two by mere inches, rushing over their heads with a blaze of heat. Iwaizumi turns on his heel and thrusts his hand out, grabbing it with a tentacle of water and knocking it away from their homes.   
  
His Tribemates are dying around him.   
  
Iwaizumi growls and turns back to Oikawa.   
  
“Fine,” he says. “What do you suggest we do? I’m open to—” a cannonball gets through their defenses and smashes a house to pieces “—suggestions!”   
  
“I have a plan!” Oikawa shouts, barely audible over the whizzing flames. “But you’ll have to trust me!”   
  
Iwaizumi makes a displeased face. He literally met Oikawa an hour and a half ago, and now they’re being attacked by the Fire Prince’s people—but Iwaizumi doesn’t have much of a choice, at this point. The Northern Water Tribe is strong—but not strong enough to fend off an entire Fire Nation army, and Iwaizumi knows this. It’s a miracle that they’ve even lasted this long.    
  
“Fine!” he yells over the noise and tremors from a flaming stone impacting with their ice wall. “What do you need us to do?”   
  
Oikawa grins, and Iwaizumi regrets his decision immediately.

“I need several of the best waterbenders you have!” Oikawa shouts, and takes off running. Iwaizumi swears and follows him.    
  
They weave through the defenders across the wall. At one point Oikawa is nearly hit by a fireball, but just before it makes impact, the firebender twists his body gracefully and uses a burst of flames out of his feet to propel himself forward and out of the way. It’s fairly impressive, and Iwaizumi is forced to increase his pace to keep up with the Fire Prince.    
  
Kiyoko is coming up ahead of them, standing on the top of the ice wall with her hands outstretched. Geysers of water shoot up at her command to knock flaming projectiles off course. Suga is working with her, his eyes closed in fierce concentration. Iwaizumi can’t take both of them, so he makes a decision and grabs Kiyoko by the shoulder.    
  
“I need you,” he says next to her ear. She nods, and Iwaizumi glances at Suga in apology. “Suga, I’m—”   
  
“Go,” Suga says, not opening his eyes. His brow furrows in concentration as he extends his hands into the air and widens his stance, bracing himself for another wave of fire. “I’ve got it covered.”   
  
Iwaizumi doesn’t have time to thank him, because Oikawa is already too far ahead. He’s picked up Matsukawa on the way. The waterbender looks slightly confused but is cooperating, if slightly reluctantly, with the firebender. Iwaizumi and Kiyoko sprint to catch up with them, and suddenly they’re at the edge of the wall.    
  
“Where are we going?” Iwaizumi yells. Oikawa doesn’t answer, but he suddenly reaches back and grabs Matsukawa’s wrists—and then jumps off of the wall, hurling them both towards the sea.   
  
“Oika—oh, for the love of—”   
  
Iwaizumi leaps over the side of the wall after them, Kiyoko right behind him, and bends the water upwards to cushion his fall. It’s freezing, as expected, and when Iwaizumi surfaces he is shivering already. He moves quickly to turn the water beneath him into a slab of ice.    
  
Kiyoko and Matsukawa have done the same, but Oikawa is treading water, breathing little puffs of fire out of his mouth and nose. He isn’t shivering—Iwaizumi assumes that has something to do with the flames—but his clothes and hair are plastered to his skin, and he is panting hard.    
  
“You idiot,” Iwaizumi spits out. “What are we even doing? You can’t just say you have a plan and then jump off of the—”   
  
“Calm down, Iwa-chan. We don’t have time for that!”   
  
Iwaizumi freezes.    
  
“What did you just call me?”   
  
Oikawa grins at him smugly. “Iwa-chan. Iwaizumi is just so long. I can’t blurt out something with that many syllables in a war zone.” Iwaizumi glares death at him and opens his mouth to protest, but Oikawa’s expression turns serious a moment later, and he swims over to Iwaizumi’s ice and climbs on, making it rock back and forth in the choppy water.    
  
There is a crash, and Iwaizumi flinches as a large fireball slams into the wall above them. Shards of ice rain down into the water, and the group covers their faces against the fragments. Cracks are beginning to spread under the onslaught.    
  
They don’t have much time.    
  
Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa’s shoulder and turns the Prince to face him.   
  
“Listen,” he says urgently. “I made the decision to trust you. Don’t make me regret that. Tell us what your plan is.” Kiyoko and Matsukawa nod in agreement.   
  
“Right,” Oikawa says, straightening his spine and pushing his shoulders back.   
  
Suddenly, Iwaizumi can see a Prince in front of him. He’s only seen Oikawa unconscious for the past three days, and for the entire two hours he’s been awake Oikawa has been half in shock from loss and fear. But here, on this tiny slab of ice in front of a Tribe under siege… Iwaizumi can definitely see the right to command in Oikawa’s posture.    
  
The Fire Prince seems like someone Iwaizumi wouldn’t mind following…not that he would ever admit that out loud.   
  
“The Fire Nation’s catapults are technically long ranged, but they do have a limit to their area of attack,” Oikawa says. “During the first section of an attempted siege, the nation will send six ships closer to attempt to bring down any defenses their enemies might have and thin out their opponents so that the ground force can get through more easily. The rest of the fleet stays out of range in case someone has the capacity to fight back and sink their ships. The fact that they haven’t sent their ground troops in yet means that they’re being cautious. Ushijima—or whoever is in charge of this assault—knows what your waterbenders can do. If we want to make them even more worried, and stop this assault, we need to take out their catapults first.”   
  
“There are four of us,” Matsukawa says incredulously. “You really think we can take out six Fire Navy ships?”   
  
Oikawa suddenly grins.   
  
“You forget, I’ve spent the past four weeks of my life on one of those,” he says, jabbing his finger at the ships across the water. “As long as we go in pairs, we should be able to at least bring down their long range weapons. Bringing down the ship is a secondary objective. They can’t get close enough to land their troops, so they’ll be crippled without their catapults.”   
  
Iwaizumi blinks. It’s an ambitious plan, and ordinarily he would be opposed to it. However, these aren’t normal circumstances. Iwaizumi’s very way of life is at risk, and too many of his tribemates have already died in desperate defense of their home.    
  
“Alright,” he says, meeting Kiyoko’s and Matsukawa’s stares steadily. A fireball crashes over their heads, so close that large ice chunks ricochet around them. “I don’t have a better plan. Let’s do this. I’ll take His Majesty over there.”   
  
Oikawa frowns at him, as if unsure if Iwaizumi is mocking him or not. Even Iwaizumi’s not sure. He’s only known Oikawa for two hours, after all.   
  
“Sounds good,” Matsukawa says, and he whips his arms around and stands on his ice slab, bending himself over the rolling waves towards the enemy ships. Kiyoko is right on his heels.   
  
They’re the best waterbenders in the tribe, besides Suga. Iwaizumi tries not to worry.   
  
“Iwa-chan, let’s go,” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi growls at him, because what is he, six? But he grabs the Prince’s arm and uses his other hand to bend the water beneath him, and then they are moving with the push and pull of the sea, surfing across the water. Iwaizumi spurs them on with long, graceful movements, and they rocket towards the enemy ships.    
  
Their method of transportation is effective, but it isn’t subtle at all, and the firebenders see them coming a long ways off. Flames and fireballs are blasted towards them and Iwaizumi swerves frantically to avoid them as they get closer.   
  
A hand taps on his shoulder, and suddenly Oikawa’s lips are by his ear.    
  
“Get closer, and throw me,” he says over the roar of the water and flames. His tone is completely serious, devoid of the joking lilt that he had spoken with earlier. Oikawa discards his parka as they move, letting it drop heavily into the water.   
  
Iwaizumi clenches his teeth, rotating his free arm furiously and turning them around for a speedy pass down the side of the ship. The firebenders aren’t expecting the close maneuvering, and as they pass below the main deck Iwaizumi makes the water swell beneath them at the same time as he shoves Oikawa upwards, hard. The Fire Prince goes spiraling into the air, trailing flames from his hands and feet. Iwaizumi loses sight of him for a split second as he regains use of both his hands, his bending suddenly much more efficient.    
  
When he turns around again it is just in time to see Oikawa land on the deck with a shockwave of fire, the very epitome of grace even as he pushes his hands outwards to shoot twin bursts of flames at the enemy firebenders. Iwaizumi is still over the water, but he feels the temperature rise as Oikawa’s flames dance through the air.   
  
Of course, he had suspected that Oikawa was talented—he was the prince, after all—but he hadn’t realized that the firebender was this good.   
  
Oikawa keeps a constant stream of fire whirling around his body as a defense, moving the flames fluidly and with an obvious amount of control. His kicks are precise and punctuated by fireballs, and each breath seems perfectly measured, providing him with plenty of energy to bend.   
  
His face, however, is the very picture of rage.   
  
Iwaizumi slows to a stop on the top of the water and stays there for a second, watching Oikawa rampage through the ranks of soldiers that emerge from the bowels of the ship. He feels no need to interfere.   
  
He gets the feeling that this is personal.   
  
Off to his left, Iwaizumi can see a freezing mist start to form around one of the other Fire Navy ships in the distance. When he squints, he can just make out the tiny forms of combatants on the deck, and even as he watches the ship buckles unsteadily as ice creeps over the hull.    
  
That’s one down, then—two, actually, since Oikawa seems to have successfully disabled the catapults on their own target.    
  
Iwaizumi uses the water to propel himself onto the ship just in time to watch Oikawa knock the last soldier off of the side of the boat with a powerful kick.    
  
“Oi,” Iwaizumi says a bit grumpily. “Do you even need my help?”   
  
Then he notices that Oikawa is swaying, and his fists are clenching and unclenching, over and over again. His breaths are coming far too fast.   
  
He’s used up too much energy for just the first ship, but Iwaizumi understands why, and can’t blame him.   
  
“You alright?” Iwaizumi asks carefully, noting the scorched metal beneath his feet. Oikawa sucks in a deep breath and straightens, hurriedly wiping his sleeve across his face. Iwaizumi pretends not to see.   
  
“I’m fine,” Oikawa says a moment later. “Let’s keep going.”    
  
He’s a little unsteady on his feet, and Iwaizumi knows he’ll definitely have to do more work on the next ship.    
  
“It’ll be harder this time,” Iwaizumi says, staring out across the water at their second target. “They know we’re coming. And on top of that, they’ll know you’re here, too. That was quite a… bright display.”   
  
“More fun for us then, I guess!” Oikawa says in a false-cheery tone of voice, a smirk playing on his lips. He’s caught his breath at least, and Iwaizumi glares at him.   
  
“Get on my back,” he growls. Oikawa obeys and Iwaizumi leaps off of the ship, bending the water to catch them again and then they are off, surfing across the water towards their next target.   
  
This time, the catapult is aimed towards them.    
  
“Look out!” Oikawa shouts, arms gripping Iwaizumi tightly, and Iwaizumi twists, diving underneath the water to avoid the large flaming rock. They resurface with Oikawa gasping for breath and Iwaizumi grinding his teeth in concentration. The second catapult is preparing to fire, and Iwaizumi commands the water to form a shield around them. The fireball misses them, barely, and Oikawa hisses in displeasure.   
  
Another attack is coming, and suddenly Iwaizumi feels Oikawa start to shimmy upwards, hooking his legs over Iwaizumi’s shoulders until he is more or less seated. He sways unsteadily for a few heart-stopping moments at the shift in weight distribution.   
  
“What are you—?”   
  
“Don’t move, Iwa-chan. I know what I’m doing.”    
  
Iwaizumi feels it before he sees it—the crackle of an electrical current, right by the back of his head. Oikawa has gone silent on his shoulders, but he’s moving his arms fluidly, drawing the lightning through his body.    
  
Iwaizumi resists the urge to drop him into the icy water, because he’s a little concerned about the safety of his head. But Oikawa keeps everything but a little static well under control, and as the next blazing fireball rockets towards them, Oikawa takes aim at it and pulls the lightning one last time through his limbs before he fires it. The resulting explosion is glorious.   
  
“Nice shot,” Iwaizumi says grudgingly, and suddenly they’re nearly on top of their target. Iwaizumi lifts his hands sharply, and the water pitches them into the air and onto the deck of the ship.    
  
Iwaizumi is in his element. This is the sea, this is his home. He is untouchable here. He takes a deep breath and allows himself to be immersed in the steady push-pull that he can always feel in his heart.    
  
He moves like a storm, slashing through the Fire Nation soldiers with incredible ease. His rage and desire to defend his Tribe enhances his bending much more than usual. Water whips around him and he raises waves from the sea to knock enemies off of the deck. When he clenches his fists, his ice shards are hard and unforgiving. These men have attacked his homeland, and he can’t let them get away with that unscathed.    
  
Behind him, he can feel more than see the heat from Oikawa’s own battles, fast paced and bursting with colorful flames. Oikawa fights with a ferocity that Iwaizumi’s rarely seen in anyone but himself before, and to his surprise, they complement each other near perfectly, defending each other and striking out in unison. They are pressed back to back in the center of the deck, and the Fire Nation can’t even get close to the whirlwind of fire and ice they’ve become.    
  
They take down the catapults in record speed, both their hearts filled with a vengeance all but begging to be fulfilled.    
  
“Next!” Oikawa shouts, dashing towards the edge of the ship the moment the last man in sight falls (there’s probably more down below, but that wasn’t their goal anyway). “One more!” He jumps, and Iwaizumi growls in annoyance, doubling his speed in order to have the water catch the idiot Prince before he plunges into the icy cold.    
  
They’re speeding towards the final ship when Oikawa suddenly stiffens in Iwaizumi’s hold, sucking in an almost panicky-sounding breath. Iwaizumi frowns in his general direction, unable to remove his focus from his bending.   
  
“What is it?” he shouts. Oikawa’s hand suddenly appears over his head, pointing towards a flag that’s been raised on the top mast of the enemy ship.    
  
“That,” Oikawa says, so quietly that Iwaizumi barely hears him. “That’s—that’s not good.”    
  
Iwaizumi looks at it. It doesn’t seem that special—it’s orange, with a simple little design and writing that Iwaizumi can’t quite read from here on it—but obviously it has much bigger significance to Oikawa.    
  
They attack their final boat in much the same manner as they did last time, but the trust and fluidity that they had somehow produced earlier is marred by Oikawa’s constant, nervous glances around the ship.    
  
Iwaizumi doesn’t know what he’s so worried about. So far these soldiers have been exactly like all the others—easy enough to take down with a well-placed water whip, and too slow to draw their weapons when they notice that Iwaizumi can block their flames with little effort.    
  
They clear the deck again, and Iwaizumi seals the enemy catapults in solid blocks of ice.   
  
“There,” he said. “Let’s go meet up with Kiyoko and Matsu—”   
  
He never has a chance to finish that sentence, because Oikawa tackles him to the ground with a shout as a wave of flames roar over his head. He hadn’t even seen it coming, and if Oikawa hadn’t slammed him into the metal of the ship he would have been completely incapacitated.    
  
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the traitor prince. You’re supposed to be dead, you know.”   
  
Oikawa’s entire body freezes up, and he moves off of Iwaizumi stiffly. His fists clench shut as he turns to face the newcomer.   
  
“If anyone’s a traitor, it definitely isn’t me, Terushima,” Oikawa says firmly, but there’s an undertone of fury in his voice that Iwaizumi hasn’t heard before.   
  
The newcomer laughs as Iwaizumi sits up. He has an undercut with spiky blond hair, and there’s a tiny tuft of it that falls over his forehead. There’s a smirk on his face and a fireball in his hand.    
  
“Playing by Ushiwaka’s rules now, Teru?” Oikawa says loftily, waving a hand in the air. “I’d hoped you were better than that. It was your innovation that made my father promote you to Captain—your ability to work without someone giving you orders—but apparently he was wrong. I’m not impressed.” His voice wavers a tiny bit at his own mention of his father, but his words have done their job—the smirk slides off of Terushima’s face, and his excited demeanor shifts into something much more sinister. His flames brighten.    
  


“Oh, dear,” Oikawa hums obnoxiously. “Did I hit a nerve?” He slides his foot back into a firmer stance as he speaks, until he’s in a neat firebending position.    
  
Iwaizumi takes a deep breath and prepares himself for a fight.   
  
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa suddenly says in a quiet voice, too quiet for Terushima to hear him, “I need you to do something. It’s important. Within the ship are the Captain’s quarters. There will be a box full of scrolls on the desk in the corner—that’s standard protocol. The box contains all recent orders from the Fire Lord—we could learn something about Ushijima’s plans if we got hold of them. I’ll hold off Terushima if you—”   
  
“Got it,” Iwaizumi interrupts. It’s a good idea—one that Iwaizumi wouldn’t have even been aware of. “Keep him off of me, though.”   
  
“Of course,” Oikawa says, louder. “Do you doubt me, Iwa-chan?”   
  
To spite him, Iwaizumi stares at the Prince flatly and says, “Yes.”   
  
Oikawa yelps, but Terushima has gotten antsy, and a fireball rockets towards them before Oikawa can find any time to whine. They both dodge, and Oikawa takes the initiative, sprinting in until he’s in close quarters with the other firebender. It leaves the path to the staircase leading below wide open, and Iwaizumi runs for it, fearlessly leaping into the belly of the ship without looking back at the blazing battle behind him.   
  
He hopes he’s not making a mistake by trusting the Fire Prince. He bends a stream of water from the ocean after him just in case, and disappears into the darkness below.   


* * *

   
 _Ever since his childhood, Kageyama has wanted to fight._ _  
_ _  
_ _He hears his titles everywhere he goes: the Firebending Prodigy, Kageyama Tobio. The King of Firebending. His parents show him off at every opportunity, even at a young age, and he spends the first decade of his life enjoying the attention._ _  
_ _  
_ _They’re right, after all. He is a prodigy. He can perform moves that it takes masters weeks to figure out after seeing it only once. It is a truly amazing gift, his mother tells him, one fit for a noble of the Fire Nation._ _  
_ _  
_ _But it isn’t long until the attention becomes unwanted and unnecessary. Bending isn’t a challenge—there’s no thrill to it at all, and Kageyama’s performances to visitors, and once even to the Fire Lord, become nothing but annoyances as the days pass._ _  
_ _  
_ _He gets bored._ _  
_ _  
_ _His home is nice. It is large, not extremely so, but appropriate enough for his family’s noble status. However, it isn’t even remotely close to satisfying._ _  
_ _  
_ _Kageyama wants excitement. He wants to feel the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of the chase that the soldiers that pass by speak of._ _  
_ _  
_ _He wants adventure._ _  
_ _  
_ _The moment he is old enough, he puts in his papers to join the Fire Nation army. His skills can be put to good use there, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll encounter someone with enough skill to keep up with him. He knows who he can beat, and who he can’t (yet), and among them are several famous benders in the army—Bokuto Koutarou, for example—that he hopes to meet._ _  
_ _  
_ _His parents mourn for him as if he has died, and express their anger and disappointment that he is not continuing his father’s legacy of politics._ _  
_ _  
_ _Kageyama hates politics. He tends to get angry and frustrated during debates, so he isn’t very crushed over the “loss”._ _  
_ _  
_ _His acceptance letter comes, and Kageyama packs his bags. Within two days of travel Kageyama is in a uniform and attending his first training session of the Fire Nation Army._ _  
_ _  
_ _It is pure coincidence that the very next day, Ushijima makes his move, and the Fire Lord and Lady are assassinated._ _  
_ _  
_ _Suddenly Kageyama is enlisted in an army serving a traitorous Lord, and he is far away from home. He is scared, although he refuses to show it. Ushijima’s spies are everywhere. One of Kageyama’s roommates goes missing after protesting loudly that Ushijima isn’t the rightful heir—they never see him again. Kageyama learns to keep his mouth shut within the week._ _  
_ _  
_ _Someone recognizes him. He supposes it was only a matter of time, after all, from the extreme amount his parents had paraded him around, but his orders came in quickly after that, sending him up in ranks so that he can be an official soldier instead of a cadet. He receives orders to participate in the—and these are the exact words on the paper— “Conquering of the Northern Water Tribe”._ _  
_ _  
_ _He is finally getting his adventure—but this isn’t quite what he’d wanted._ _  
_ _  
_ _He stares at the paper in shock, and then looks back up at the man who had given it to him, who is scrutinizing him closely, watching for his reaction. He thanks the man, keeping his face carefully blank, and closes his door._ _  
_ _  
_ _He can’t refuse the orders. They’ll come after him if he does, and he’ll be dead the next day. Kageyama does not support Ushijima, but he is Fire Lord. Kageyama doesn’t have a choice in the matter._ _  
_ _  
_ _He closes his eyes and exhales in an attempt to calm himself. There’s always a silver lining, his parents had repeated to him when he was young, and reluctantly he shifts his mind to finding it—perhaps he will be lucky enough to meet a waterbender who could put up a good fight. That was something to look forward to._ _  
_ _  
_ _He struggles to put himself into the mindset of a soldier, uncaring and completely obedient to orders, but it does not go well. He’s never been a big fan of authority—but the day arrives, and Kageyama is on a ship headed to the Northern Water Tribe._ _  
_ _  
_ _At least, he thinks bitterly as the ship rocks back and forth in the waves, he will get to fight._ _  
_ _  
_ _Perhaps, if he is excited enough, and full of adrenaline, he will be able to ignore the massacre that will be occurring at the same time._  
  


* * *

  
  
He isn’t even getting to fight.    
  
This is Kageyama’s first battle (never mind that he’s serving a corrupt Lord), and instead of being outside, blazing with glory and flames, Kageyama is stuck within the confining metal, as a guard.   
  
And he is not happy about it.   
  
(He still doesn’t want to participate in this genocide of Ushijima’s, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to fight. He’s more than capable of fighting without killing someone.)   
  
He can hear the whirrrr-whoosh of the catapults above him, and the distant sounds of impacts on the wall the Water Tribe has set up.    
  
He supposes it is his own fault that he’s stuck down here. Earlier at the beginning of their trip he had (foolishly, he now knows) challenged the ship captain to a duel. It had been naive of him, and the captain had said so loudly but accepted the challenge.   
  
Kageyama is the better bender by miles, but he loses the fight. Badly.   
  
He has no real world experience, first off. His fantasies and practice duels are nothing like the real thing. His Captain fights hard and fights dirty. Kageyama isn’t expecting his smooth little street tricks—he’s used to the proper and formal ways of fighting, and is thrown across the deck in his ignorance.   
  
He is confined to the ship for his naivety after that. Not fit for battle, his Captain says.   
  
He is standing in one of the lower hallways of the ship when the entire boat starts to rock back and forth, harder than usual. Kageyama is used to it by now—he had gotten his sea legs long ago. However, something is… different about this. The back and forth motion doesn’t feel quite natural—as if something, or someone, is causing it.    
  
There are distant sounds of combat above him, and Kageyama tenses in excitement.    
  
Maybe now he’ll finally get to—   
  
There are soft footsteps coming down the stairs. Kageyama doesn’t even get the chance to shove on his bulky helmet before the person rounds the corner into sight.   
  
It’s a waterbender—that he can tell by the blue clothing. He’s never met a waterbender before. This one has spiky hair and a scowl on his face. A large orb of water is trailing behind him at little gestures from his hand. He tenses when he sees Kageyama, and his eyebrows shoot upwards. His mouth opens.   
  
“How old are you?”   
  
The sudden question is completely unexpected and makes Kageyama jerk in surprise before he comes to his senses and slides into a bending stance, glaring at the waterbender.    
  
“Old enough,” he says in annoyance, and the waterbender suddenly chuckles. It throws Kageyama off for a moment, and he stares at the waterbender in confusion.   
  
“Not hardly,” the waterbender says gruffly. “You’re just a fledgling. Be grateful it was me you came across and not someone else. They wouldn’t be as kind.”   
  
Kageyama blinks and puts all of his energy into a powerful fireball, filling the hallway with his flames from floor to ceiling. To his dismay, the waterbender calls the liquid orb behind him into action in a smooth motion, shielding himself from Kageyama’s fire.   
  
“Impressive,” the waterbender breathes, and then suddenly he is diving closer, an ice dagger in his hand. Kageyama’s eyes widen and he takes a step back, punching out two fireballs out of his fists in quick succession and sweeping his leg around to launch an arc of flame at his opponent.   
  
“Don’t underestimate me!” he growls, but the waterbender dodges all three attacks (although his ice dagger does melt from the intense heat, and that makes Kageyama grin with pride). Kageyama moves again, determinedly beginning a set of more complicated moves that he barely has room for in the narrow hallway, creating a blazing inferno—he’s confident that this will end the battle, and high on the adrenaline rush he aims the flames directly for his enemy’s head—   
  
But the waterbender rolls underneath it and extends his hand in a sweeping upward motion, and suddenly Kageyama can’t move, because his entire body is encased in ice.   
  
That… that shouldn’t have happened. He’s one of the best firebenders in the Fire Nation, there was no way he had been taken out that easily—   
  
“You have a lot to learn,” the waterbender says gruffly. His voice sounds slightly distorted from the ice. The cold is seeping into Kageyama’s bones, and he struggles to tap into his inner fire to unfreeze himself, but he can’t pull in enough breath to properly access his flames.    
  
No, no, no—how is this—impossible—   
  
“Don’t worry,” the waterbender says. “The ice will melt eventually, and I’m pretty sure you won’t suffocate. Stay put.”   
  
He leaves, and inside his frozen prison, Kageyama clenches his jaw in a silent scream of frustration.   
  


* * *

  
  
The thing that makes Terushima such a dangerous opponent is that he’s unpredictable, and incredibly fast. Oikawa is immediately put on the defensive despite making the first move.   
  
“Dance with me, Prince,” Terushima says with a grin, dropping low and attempting to sweep Oikawa’s legs out from under him. He’s just like Oikawa remembers—full of exhilaration and excitement. He throws himself into the air to avoid Terushima’s legs and swings his foot down with a blazing trail of fire towards his head, but Terushima rolls to the side and responds immediately with a string of quick fireballs.   
  
Iwaizumi has been gone for a while. Oikawa hopes he isn’t dead.    
  
Their fast-paced battle takes them both towards the edge of the ship, and Oikawa is the one to make the first mistake—he lands slightly off balance after a more complicated series of aerial moves, and Terushima takes advantage of his misstep, darting forwards and slashing his hands through the air to surround his fists in flames. Oikawa tries to move back from Terushima’s ferocious attack, but he stumbles, and Terushima’s hand grazes his ribs, burning through his shirt and scalding his skin. Oikawa hisses in pain and rotates, spinning to the side to put more distance between them.   
  
Terushima’s smirk is annoying. Oikawa makes it his goal to punch it off.   
  
He flexes his fingers, and two fire daggers appear in his fists. Terushima’s eyes widen as Oikawa launches himself at his opponent with quick, slashing strikes, trailing flames from the small blades. Terushima backs up, weaving around Oikawa’s movements, and suddenly jumps into the air, using both feet to toss a powerful fireball at Oikawa’s face. Oikawa dives to the side and the burn across his ribs from earlier flares up in pain.    
  
“Above you!” Terushima sings, all confidence and bravado, and Oikawa rolls to avoid what would have been a devastating blow from Terushima’s heel. However, the move puts the captain off balance, and in a reversal of roles Oikawa takes advantage of that, stepping closer and hitting Terushima in the chest with a burst of fire that sends him flying backwards. It isn’t too effective due to Terushima’s thick armor, but the captain coughs as he rises to his feet, wincing a little as he takes a step towards Oikawa. The scorch mark across the front of his armor is impressive.   
  
“Ugh, I’ll feel that one in the morning,” he groans, and then his smirk returns. “But I can do better.”   
  
Oikawa bares his teeth at him. “Shut up,” he says. “I was going easy on you, but I won’t anymore.”   
  
Terushima grins at the challenge, and steps closer. They circle for a minute, each searching for an opening, until Terushima grins and spins down onto his hands, kicking up a whirlwind of fire with both feet. Oikawa clenches his jaw and parts the flames, a defense move that uses up a lot of energy, and suddenly Terushima is flying in. Oikawa throws himself backwards, but Terushima is persistent, and their fight shifts to close combat, flaming kicks and punches coming near enough to singe their hair.   
  
Oikawa growls and throws his hands outwards, and a shockwave of fire erupts from his palms. Terushima shouts and jumps backwards, and then they are back to where they were before, circling each other warily.   
  
Terushima grins at him, a dangerous spark glinting in his eyes.   
  
“It’s hard to find people who can keep up with me, Prince. This is fun!”   
  
“Oh, yes, our definitions of fun are exactly the same,” Oikawa snaps sarcastically. “I always have people try to kill me when I’m looking for a good time!”   
  
Something flickers in Terushima’s eyes at Oikawa’s words—a brief second of hesitation and doubt. Oikawa doesn’t exactly understand it, but he jumps at the opportunity anyway, shooting a massive stream of fire from his hands. Terushima yelps and crosses his arms in front of his face in an attempt to block the flames, and as a consequence of that he is too slow to react in time when Oikawa leaps at him and brings his elbow around to slam into the side of Terushima’s head. The Fire Nation Captain lets out a strangled cry at the impact and drops like a stone, limp against the hard metal of the deck, completely unconscious.   
  
Oikawa grits his teeth and clutches at his elbow, grimacing at the way his entire arm throbs and tingles from the blow.    
  
“Ow, ow, ow—ugh, that hurt! Ow—”   
  
It’s just his luck that Iwaizumi returns to find him like that, hunched over his arm and whining in pain. The waterbender rolls his eyes.   
  
“Really?”   
  
“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa gasps, glaring at him. “Come on, give me some credit! I did knock him out!”   
  
That in itself, Oikawa knows, is strange. Terushima is no pushover. His wild and agile attacks make him an incredibly formidable foe, and he shouldn’t have been defeated so easily. If it hadn’t been for that split second of hesitation that Oikawa had seen… well, Oikawa isn’t entirely sure he would have gained the upper hand.    
  
Iwaizumi huffs in annoyance and gestures back towards the inside of the ship in a sweeping motion. At first Oikawa isn’t sure what he’s doing, but then he realizes that Iwaizumi is using his bending to lift a large, human-shaped ice block onto the deck.    
  
“Um… what is that?” he asks hesitantly, and Iwaizumi sets the block onto the floor with a grunt.    
  
“One of yours,” he says. “Too young to die, and not fast enough to stop me. So this happened. He was powerful, but he didn’t have near enough experience to fight.”    
  
“Oh,” Oikawa says softly. “Thank you.” He can’t quite make out the face of the soldier inside the ice, but he appreciates Iwaizumi’s mercy anyway.    
  
Most of these soldiers are just following Ushijima’s orders, after all.    
  
“Here,” he says, stepping away from Terushima’s unconscious body. “Can you freeze him for me? We’ll be in trouble if he gets up again.”   
  
Iwaizumi nods and does so, pinning the Fire Navy Captain to the deck with ice cuffs around his sprawled limbs. He also slides closer to Oikawa and holds out a slightly damp scroll—Ushijima’s orders to the fleet.    
  
“Thanks,” Oikawa says, tucking the scroll away. He’ll have to look at it later.    
  
There’s the sound of splashing water coming from over the side of the ship, and after a few moments Kiyoko and Matsukawa propel themselves out of the water and onto the ship, landing with a grace that Oikawa pretends he isn’t jealous of.    
  
“That’s it,” Kiyoko says. “All six have been taken care of.” Matsukawa grins beside her, and Oikawa sighs in relief. That’s one obstacle down, at least.   
  
“Nice work, you two,” Iwaizumi praises. “Now, what’s our next move?”   
  
Oikawa blinks when he realizes that all three of them have turned to stare at him, and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.    
  
“Um… I may or may not have forgotten to think this far ahead? But!” he continues hastily as Iwaizumi’s face darkens, “Give me a second. I can figure something—”   
  
“Uh,” Matsukawa suddenly interrupts, pointing across the bay. “I think we have a problem.”   
  
Oikawa follows his finger and swears.   
  
There are four small, faster moving ships clinging to the sides of the little cove off to their left. Each one isn’t armed at all for combat, but is filled to the brim with land troops, and Oikawa clenches his teeth at the sight. The ships are also far enough to the side that Suga and the other waterbenders won’t see them until they’ve nearly arrived at the shore, and despite that fact placing the troops a decent walk away from the tribe, Oikawa knows that the waterbenders won’t be able to maintain their defenses against land invaders, despite it almost being full moon. There simply aren’t enough of them.   
  
Before Oikawa can even open his mouth suggest action, Iwaizumi has already grabbed him, and suddenly they are speeding back towards the tribe even faster than before. Oikawa looks back and sees the ship rocking back and forth in their wake, and the block of frozen soldier skitters across the deck and plunges into the ocean as he watches—   
  
But it’s too late for Oikawa to say anything, because at this point he’s pretty sure Iwaizumi’s tribe means much more to him than any single Fire Nation soldier, even a young one like Iwaizumi has spoken about before.    
  
The travel across the water feels like a blur—they are racing against the ships, and when they finally make it to the water tribe’s now battered and cracked ice wall it is to see that only a handful of tribespeople remain. Suga is waiting for them with Kunimi at his side, both with grim expressions and several bleeding scratches across their skin.    
  
“Iwaizumi, we need to—” Suga begins once they’ve made it to the top of the wall, but Iwaizumi cuts him off.    
  
“We need to evacuate, now,” he says firmly, gripping Suga’s forearm. “They’re landing troops as we speak, there’s nothing we can do about it.”   
  
Suga’s face crumbles, and he takes a quick breath, clenching his jaw even as his entire body trembles in sorrow.    
  
“Suga—” Kiyoko says, stepping closer, but Suga shakes his head, taking a step back.    
  
“No,” he forces out, lifting his head towards the soot-filled sky. “No, you’re right, that’s the only thing we can do right now.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “My father is dead.”   
  
Oikawa sucks in a sharp breath and dips his head in despair. That makes Suga the chieftain of the Northern Water Tribe now—a situation not so unlike his own.    
  
“Fire Nation troops, coming in from the West! I can see them!” a sentry shouts, and just like that, Suga regains his composure, drawing himself up to his full height.    
  
“Right,” he says, taking command. “We’re pulling out. The lives of our people are much more important than several dozen igloos that we can re-bend in mere minutes. Fall back to the ice plains! We must protect the women and children!”   
  
The waterbenders move as one, and Oikawa finds himself running with them, side by side with Iwaizumi.    
  
No one looks back as they leave the Tribe for what Oikawa instinctively knows will be the last time. Suga seems to be right—the lives of the people are much more important than the ice buildings they’ve lived in all their lives, and too many of those lives have already been lost today.    
  
Oikawa can’t help but feel like it’s all his fault.   
  
He will find a way to get revenge on Ushijima for this.   
  
Even if it’s the last thing he does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be on vacation for the next three weeks, but I'll update if I have an opportunity. Hope you guys liked it!


	3. Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lines are drawn, and allies are made. But will it be enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, please enjoy! Got any questions for me? Feel free to ask in the comments!

The Northern Water Tribe raiding party returns a week later. Kuroo is standing guard over a meeting between Ushijima and his councilors when the door bursts open and men stream into the room. Interrupting one of Ushijima’s meetings is a serious offense, and Kuroo and the other Royal Guards move instinctively between the new arrivals and their Lord.

Ushijima pauses as the flow of men stop, raising an eyebrow leisurely. His councilors all jump to their feet, and Ushijima follows them slowly.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks dangerously, moving out from behind the table and motioning for the Royal Guard to stand down. Kuroo winces at his tone—someone’s going to get burned.

The assembled returnees seem to glance among themselves nervously, and Kuroo feels a spike of dread run through his chest. Something has happened, and based on the Raider’s reactions, it isn’t good.

Ushijima isn’t happy with the silence, and exhales in impatience.

“Well?”

The men shuffle, and then part as someone shoves their way to the front. Kuroo blinks when he sees Terushima. The agile firebender is the youngest Captain in the history of the Fire Nation—a year younger than the Prince—and it definitely shows. He’s smaller than everyone else in the room, but he carries himself with pride and courage, snapping to attention once Ushijima’s eyes land on him.

“Captain Terushima,” Ushijima says, a note of surprise in his voice. “What is the reason for this disturbance?”

“Our siege of the Northern Water Tribe was successful. The survivors abandoned the Tribe and fled across the ocean,” Terushima reports boldly, a spark of fire glowing in his eyes and a smirk across his face. Kuroo’s eyes widen at his near-insolent tone.

Ushijima narrows his eyes and leans forward.

“But?” he prompts slowly, and Terushima’s entire body suddenly tenses up. “You wouldn’t cause this much of a disturbance for just that. What new do you bring that is so important you had to interrupt my meeting?”

Terushima’s expression shifts, and suddenly he looks quite serious—a strange change from his usual exuberance. “My Lord,” he says, slowly, hesitantly, “The waterbenders were accompanied by a single firebender, who engaged our initial assault ships and destroyed our catapults. The firebender…” he swallows nervously, and suddenly a note of fear is audible in his tone, “...was Oikawa Tooru, former Prince of the Fire Nation.”

There is silence.

No one bothers to correct Terushima’s words—if Oikawa is alive, then that means that he isn’t the _former_ Prince—he’s the _rightful_ Prince, and Ushijima has no claim to the throne.

Ushijima lets out a low growl, and the muscles in Terushima’s jaws clench.

“Repeat that, please.”

Terushima exhales.

“Oikawa Tooru is alive, My Lord.”

Ushijima is a towering wall of rage, and the assembled Fire Nation men shuffle backwards away from the self-proclaimed Fire Lord.

“And you didn’t kill him?” Ushijima says a little louder, and Terushima winces. Something flashes in his eyes, nearly too fast to see, and Kuroo furrows his brow as he stares at the Captain, immediately suspicious.

He’s hiding something. Not just that—he _did_ something. Something that he doesn’t want Ushijima to know about.

“We—we tried, My Lord, but the Waterbenders—”

Kuroo had been expecting it, but he still flinches when Ushijima strikes out and lands a punishing blow across Terushima’s face. The Captain stumbles at the impact, quickly muffling a cry of pain, and when he raises his head again it is clear that a large bruise will form across his left cheek.

“I don’t want excuses,” Ushijima snarls. He isn’t yelling, and for some reason that makes him ten times more intimidating. “Your failure has just put the entire _Nation_ at risk.”

“Your own reign, you mean,” Kuroo hisses quietly—luckily no one hears him.

Terushima wisely keeps his mouth shut. If he says anything else at this point, he’ll be risking execution, or Agni Kai.

Kuroo isn’t quite sure which one is worse.

Ushijima growls and paces several steps, moving impatiently around the front of the room.

“I should have known when his crew didn’t return… but even then, I didn’t think they’d fail completely. Those _fools.”_ He spits out the last word and tiny flames dance around his knuckles before he clenches his fists and subdues them.

“Lord Ushijima,” one of Ushijima’s councilors says hurriedly, “What shall we do? If the former Prince returns, he could potentially start a rebellion—you’ve only been Fire Lord for a few weeks now—”

“Silence,” Ushijima commands powerfully, and the room goes completely silent.

No one moves for a while as Ushijima continues to pace. It’s as if the whole room is holding their breath. Ushijima mutters as he walks, and finally he stops in front of Terushima again.

“I want him dead. Oikawa Tooru must not be allowed to return to the Fire Nation. Where did the surviving Water Tribe members go?” Terushima hesitates, fear flashing in his eyes, and Ushijima’s expression finally loses its composure and turns stormy.

“ _Answer me,”_ the Lord hisses, and Terushima flinches back.

“T-they were headed South,” he stutters out. “But they were floating on a giant iceberg, and we have no way of knowing where they—”

“ _Silence_.”

Terushima’s mouth snaps shut.

Ushijima takes a breath.

“Send word out to all deployed troops that the Prince is alive—I want emphasis on his betrayal of the Fire Nation. I don’t care what story you come up with, just get it done. Summon any bounty hunter you can. Tell them the prize for the former Prince’s head is riches _far beyond_ what can be counted. Do you understand me? I want him _dead._ Do whatever it takes.”

A scribe in the back is hurriedly writing down Ushijima’s orders. The scratching of his quill sends an uncomfortable shiver down Kuroo’s spine.

“I want the guards around the city and palace doubled as well. As soon as word of this event gets to the people, there will be some who attempt to rebel against our control.”

 _Your control, you mean,_ Kuroo thinks, but he doesn’t say it out loud.

Ushijima’s eyes burn holes into everyone his gaze lands on.

“I want them dead as well. I will have no rebellions during my reign. Show them _no mercy.”_

Ushijima takes a breath. He seems rattled, and Kuroo feels a smug feeling of satisfaction coiling around in his gut.

Oikawa is _alive._

“Leave me,” Ushijima suddenly orders. Kuroo blinks—does he want his guards to leave as well? “All of you, get out of my sight.”

That answered that, then.

Kuroo joins the flood of people scurrying from the room and ducks his head to hide the small, victorious smile that stretches across his face.

Oikawa is _alive._ The royal family still has a chance. His friend is still _alive._

In danger, yes, but Oikawa is one of the best firebenders Kuroo has ever met. He’s more than capable of taking care of himself.

“Tetsurou.”

Kuroo freezes as Ushijima calls his name, smiling slipping off of his face as quickly as it had appeared. He takes a deep breath and turns, keeping his face carefully neutral.

“Yes, My Lord?” he says evenly, and Ushijima is suddenly in front of him. Kuroo gasps in surprise and takes a step back at the intensity of the Fire Lord’s glare.

“Remember who you serve now, Tetsurou. Tell me who you obey.”

Kuroo swallows.

“You, My Lord.”

“Say it again.”

Kuroo clenches his teeth together furiously and bites back a sarcastic remark. “I serve you.”

Ushijima hums and holds his gaze, and Kuroo is first to glance away, turning his eyes to the floor. Ushijima smiles.

“Good. Do not forget that. Oikawa Tooru will be dead in days—I wouldn’t get your hopes up if I were you.”

“Of course not, Lord Ushijima,” Kuroo says readily, loyally. ( _He’s lying, of course. His loyalty will always be with Tooru. Deep down he knows that Ushijima knows this, but the tyrant is playing with him, seeing how long Kuroo can go without slipping up.)_

Ushijima surveys him for a moment more before nodding and saying, “Dismissed,” in a curt voice. Kuroo spins on his heel and hightails it out of there. He has no desire to stay in Ushijima’s presence any longer than he must.

 

* * *

 

Terushima’s face looks terrible. There’s a massive bruise on his side, purple against his skin. He looks up at Kuroo as the guard approaches and sighs, thin shoulders slumping and eye closing for a moment.

“I knew you would find me,” he says. His hands are trembling slightly, and Kuroo doesn’t blame him—it’s not fun to be the subject of Ushijima’s fury. “They told me you and the Prince were close. I figured it was only a matter of time before you asked me about him.”

Kuroo nods and takes a deep breath. He’s taking a risk here, if he’s wrong about Terushima then it will mean his own execution at Ushijima’s hands. “I was—am. I _am_ close to the Prince. He’s a dear friend.” He glances around to make sure the hallway is clear before he continues hurriedly. “Listen, I was watching you while you were reporting to Ushijima. You did something, didn’t you. You hid it from him, but I saw—”

Footsteps sound behind them, and Kuroo breaks off. They both shuffle their feet in awkward silence as a man in armor walks past them. Once he’s gone, Kuroo opens his mouth again, but Terushima beats him to the punch.

“Okay, okay, you caught me,” Terushima whispers, body tensing. “I wasn’t lying when I said I tried to kill the Prince. I fought Oikawa, and it—it was fun, but I couldn’t—couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t kill him?” Kuroo breathes, and Terushima’s entire body goes stiff. His hands ball into fists.

“So what if that’s true? Are you gonna be the one to turn me in?” the Captain snarls, and Kuroo grabs him by both shoulders quickly, before he can do anything stupid.

“I won’t turn you in, because we’re the _same._ Calm down.” He glances left and right to make sure the hallway is clear. “We can’t make a scene. Ushijima doesn’t trust me as it is, and now he doesn’t trust you, either.”

Terushima relaxes, but only slightly, and his eyes settle on Kuroo with a touch of wariness.

“You don’t support Ushijima?” he asks slowly, cautiously, and Kuroo nods.

“Never have, never will. And now that I know that Tooru is alive… I’m going to do something about it.”

Terushima sucks in a surprised breath, running a hand through his hair.

“You aren’t thinking of starting a rebellion, are you?”

Kuroo grins halfheartedly.

“And if I was?”

There is a beat of silence as Terushima looks at him carefully, calculatingly, narrowing his eyes. After a moment, a smirk slides onto the Captain’s face, and a spark of energy and hope appears in his gaze that Kuroo’s sure haven’t been there since the deaths of the Oikawa family.

“Then I would help you, in any way I could,” Terushima whispers. “The Oikawa family was good to me—Fire Lord Oikawa especially, and he’s the only reason I’m a Captain right now. I owe them too much to let their assassinations go without punishment.” His eyes blaze with determination and righteous anger as he speaks, and Kuroo feels a rush of relief and excitement.

He was right. Terushima is definitely an ally.

More footsteps sound, and Kuroo’s eyes widen at the sight of one of Ushijima’s councilors strolling down the hallway. He takes a step back from Terushima.

“And you should be ashamed of your failures, Captain. The Fire Lord expects better of you,” he says loudly, glaring at his new ally. Terushima blinks, momentarily shocked by Kuroo’s sudden change in opinion, but then he too spots the councilor and his eyes widen in understanding.

“Yes, sir,” Terushima says, hanging his head. “I won’t disappoint the Fire Lord again, I swear it.” It’s fake, so fake that Kuroo almost wants to smack his own forehead, but the councilor seemed to buy it. Kuroo can see him smirking at them out of the corner of his eyes.

“Good,” Kuroo growls, beginning to stalk away. “See to it that you don’t.”

He leaves after that, and doesn’t look back, but he knows Terushima understands.

Soon, they will be able to make their move. Kuroo doesn’t know exactly when, but he can sense the building storm.

When it hits, he will be ready for it.

In the meantime, he has another letter to write.

 

* * *

 

The messenger hawk on the edge of his window glares at him, and Kenma resists the urge to flick the pesky bird off of its perch with a gust of air in favor of pulling out the letter stuffed in the tube on its back. The bird nips at his fingers angrily, and Kenma scowls at it as it shuffles back and forth.

He recognizes the handwriting on the outside of the scroll immediately—it’s from Kuroo, and Kenma breathes a sigh of relief. He had been worried—it was rare that Kuroo went more than a week without a letter complaining about something or other—mostly the Prince, but sometimes other things pertaining to his royal duties as a guard.

Kenma opens the letter and reads the first line, and his mouth goes dry.

_The Fire Lord is dead._

He reads the rest of the letter in record speed, eyes widening further with every few lines. When he reaches the end, he stares at Kuroo’s final, grim words and grabs at the wall to steady himself.

_I’m sorry. War is coming, and I can’t stop it._

Kenma inhales and bites on his lip so hard that he almost draws blood.

Hinata had been right.

He composes himself quickly, and clenches the letter in his hand. He needs to warn the rest of the Air Temple. He’s sure Kuroo will be alright.

_(No, he’s not. He’s so scared for Kuroo that it hurts. But if he tells himself he’s not worried, maybe it will become true._

_He’ll be fine. He’ll be_ fine.)

 

* * *

 

The sun is just peeking over the horizon when Daichi arrives at the edge of town. Asahi is already waiting for him when he arrives, his large form easily discernible through the light mist that has formed. The trade market isn’t busy at this time of day, and the only signs of life are a few scattered stand owners, sleepily setting up shop in preparation for the day.

“Good morning, Daichi,” Asahi says. “It’s going to be a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Daichi smiles. There aren’t very many clouds in the sky, and the temperature is a little chilly now, but it will warm up pleasantly as the sun emerges.

“It will be,” Daichi agrees. “How are you? Still sore?” Their training the previous night had been grueling, and Daichi himself hadn’t expected the amount of pain his muscles would retain.

Asahi sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “Not really anymore. The bruises have pretty much faded.”

Daichi nods.

“Good. I need you in top shape, Asahi. You’re a valuable member of our force.”

Asahi ducks his head and is about to reply when a sudden voice rings out across the market.

“Hey, Asahi! Daichi!”

Nishinoya and Tanaka emerge from the mist, speaking far too loudly this early in the morning and prompting several dirty looks from stand owners as they pass.

“Are you guys ready to kick some butt today? We’ll show those thieves, no one messes with the Dai-team!”

Daichi winces and shoots Noya his most disapproving stare. “Don’t call it that, _please._ We’re a police force, not a gang.”

Tanaka grins and strikes a pose.

“Well, we could be! Gang material, right here!”

Noya scoffs and nudges Tanaka playfully. “Says the only nonbender in the force! What gang in their right mind would accept you?”

“Oi!” Tanaka shouts, and puts Noya in a headlock. Daichi considers separating them, but he knows from experience that it won’t do any good.

Tanaka is indeed the only nonbender on the force, but he makes up for it in weapon mastery and an extremely good set of hand-to-hand combat skills. For all of Noya’s teasing, Tanaka is more than capable of taking them all on. He and Noya have an ongoing series of battles that end in a building falling down more often than not, and from what Daichi has gathered they seem to be evenly matched.

“Alright, alright you two,” Daichi eventually says, and the two troublemakers step apart, grinning. “Let’s get ready for the day. The market will be busy soon.”

The four of them make an unstoppable team. Asahi is their ace, their unstoppable offensive fighter (if not a bit timid), and Noya is their sturdy defense, protecting them all with his unmovable walls of earth. Tanaka is their secret weapon, taking down even bending enemies with an incredible amount of ease. And Daichi is their Captain, covering all of their flaws and watching their backs, just in case. In the short while they’ve been stationed at this trading outpost on the edge of the Earth Kingdom the market has never been safer.

The mist is fading in the light of the sun now, and the first few buyers are browsing the stands of goods. Daichi sees Noya’s watchful eyes on them (you can never be too cautious, after all) and takes a moment to look out across the water to his left. The waves are calming, and several birds soar above the water in the morning glow.

Tanaka nudges him suddenly. He’s staring out across the water as well, but he’s squinting hard at the horizon.

“Daichi,” he says, “Are those ships out there?”

Daichi blinks and squints as well, and sure enough, he can make out about a dozen little dots nearly at the edge of his vision.

“I think so,” he says. “A travelling trader group, perhaps? But it’s not the right time of year for them to come through.”

Daichi looks again, and a strange sense of unease settles over him. Tanaka must feel it as well, and Noya and Asahi seem to pick up on the strange mood, turning their attention to the approaching ships.

Daichi takes a breath.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” he says. “I don’t know what--”

Something small and black drifts past his eye and lands on the ground, and Daichi freezes.

Another drifts past him. And another.

It’s soot.

The sharp inhales of shock from his three teammates fill his ears.

“Is that—”

“The Fire Nation,” Daichi says grimly. He’s not sure why they’re fleet is here, but if this unease is anything to go by, it can’t be anything good. “We need to get people inside.”

“Are they attacking us?” Noya asks, narrowing his eyes. “Why? The Earth Kingdom signed the treaty with Fire Lord Oikawa ages ago!”

“For now, let’s just hope that this is a big misunderstanding. It could be that they’re just coming to trade and get rest for their men,” Daichi says (but he knows in his heart that they’re not). “It might be dangerous if people inhale the soot, that’s all.”

He feels their gazes on him, and knows that they don’t believe his words for a second. They know as well as he does why the Fire Nation is here.

They’re a small trading town without that much defense. Their police force is strong, but there aren’t nearly enough of them to even dent the full force of the Fire Nation Army.

If the Fire Nation attacks them now, they are doomed to destruction by fire.

Daichi clenches his fists, ignoring the uneasiness rolling around his stomach, and braces himself for what is to come.

 

* * *

 

His Tribe is in shock, and frankly, Suga’s not doing that much better.

His father is dead. Along with his death are a dozen more of their brave warriors, cut down by firebender swords and flames. More than one person has been widowed tonight.

The large chunk of ice they had created to transfer everyone off of the North Pole had been transformed into some semblance of an ice ship on their first day adrift. At one point they had taken turns bending the ship towards dry land, but after the first day of this Suga had called for it to halt. There had been a general lack of desire to go anywhere, to do anything but mourn. They are a small tribe, everyone is close. Each death suffered is painful, a spike of grief and guilt through Suga’s heart.

They would have reached dry land days ago, if they had been focused on moving. The issues of food and water aren’t problems—they’ve lived on the sea their whole lives, and are more than capable of providing for themselves even in the middle of the ocean.

There is also reluctance to leave the ocean—the only home Suga’s tribe has known for centuries. The Firebenders have destroyed their very way of life and shattered the peaceful world they once relied on. The waters that have protected them for so long are calling, but they cannot return.

Suga doesn’t know what to do.

The Tribe sits in silence. Even the children hardly move, fidgeting in their mother’s laps before the oppressive silence causes them to hunch in on themselves again. Iwaizumi is next to his aging grandmother, clutching her hand quietly. Kiyoko has lost her father to the Fire Nation, and she is completely still, bent over the ice railing of their half-hearted ship and eyes gazing listlessly into the water. Mattsun and Kunimi pose on the other side, watching to flick unsuspecting fish out of the water, but aside from their occasional movements and quiet words, no one speaks.

The Fire Prince is alone, hands hooked around his knees and shivering a bit in the cold wind. It isn’t snowing, but his thin robes aren’t sufficient enough to protect him. He’s barely eaten since their assault, and he isn’t one of the Tribe, but Suga is worried for him anyway. Their casualties would have been much worse without his help.

Suga can’t let this continue. Mourning, he knows, is something that will take time. But how long can they mourn before it becomes unhealthy? The sea was their home, but it won’t support them for much longer.

He slowly gets to his feet and walks the short distance to Oikawa. He can feel Iwaizumi’s gaze on his back as he sits next to the Firebender, and ignores it. Oikawa glances up at his approach and bites his lip, sorrow etched across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “This is all my fault. So many people are dead...”

Suga blinks, and suddenly, he’s angry.

“Don’t you _dare_ say that again,” he hisses, loud enough for the ship to hear him, and heads begin to turn. Suga is very difficult to offend, and it’s a rare occurrence for him to speak in that tone of voice. “This isn’t your fault. You are just as much a victim as we are, and I don’t want to hear that again, understand?”

Oikawa’s eyes are wide, and he nods mutely. Suga’s shoulders slump, and he forces himself to relax. He can’t afford to lose his cool—he is in charge now. He should set a good example for the rest of the tribe.

But—he’s done sitting here, wasting away on the water. They’ve grieved long enough.

He stands, so abruptly that the Tribe looks up at him in surprise.

“Does anyone have a drum?” Suga asks, staring around at the assembled people. They seem a bit startled, but one child slowly reaches into a satchel on his back and pulls out a small drum. It’s tiny, just a toy frantically grabbed during the Tribe’s flight to escape, but as it is handed to him Suga he can feel that it is sturdy, and will make a decent sound under his palm.

“Will you mourn with me?” Suga asks. “Mourn, and send our loved one’s spirits down the current?”

They are the beginning words to an old tradition, a mourning ritual to praise the Moon and Ocean spirits, to thank them for the lost one’s life and to guide their spirits safely to the afterlife. The Tribe stirs in surprise.

“Will you mourn with me?” Suga repeats again, and this time several people murmur in affirmation, and people begin to stand.

Kiyoko is suddenly next to him, and there is a small whale-bone flute in her hands.

“I will mourn with you,” she says quietly. Suga smiles at her gently and closes his eyes.

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

His hand begins the first pattern a simple beat, and Kiyoko takes a deep breath next to him and places her mouth on the flute.

Slow, mournful music fills the air. Suga’s heart clenches at the sorrowful tune, and he nearly misses a beat as he moves on to the next pattern, slowly turning the simple beat into a careful dance step.

The Tribe finally moves. It is hesitant at first—their customs don’t come easily when they are not within the safety of their own homes, but after a while the people fall into the dance easily, bodies moving in fluid and graceful motion.

The waterbenders are at the center of the dancers, swirling water gently through the air as they dance. The water follows their movements, twisting along their arms, winding around bodies. It is gorgeous and mournful and hopeful and painful all at the same time, but the familiar customs are at least enough to push the tribe past their state of still shock.

He shares a slow glance with Kiyoko and spies the tears clinging to her eyelashes as she sways, fingers gently gliding over the openings of the flute. The song of their fallen people fills the air, and Suga nearly falters as he switches rhythms again and a quicker beat pounds through the air.

Here is the section of song, in which voices are to join dance in the story of the passing soul. Suga doesn’t expect it from his tribe, battered as they are, so it comes as a surprise when the first one to begin to sing is Iwaizumi, tilting his head back and raising his voice in a gorgeous, deep tone.

Iwaizumi doesn’t like to sing, but for all his protests he is one of the best in the tribe. His voice, combined with his beautiful dance, is enough to move the tribe into action again, and more voices join Iwaizumi’s, ringing through the air.

There is a brief disturbance in the dance out of the corner of his eye, though it isn’t enough to halt Suga’s drumming. He glances over to see that the Fire Prince has slowly gotten to his feet, watching the dancing tribe with an expression akin to wonder in his eyes.

Suga realizes that this is probably the first time that anyone from outside the Tribe has witnessed this ceremony, but he can’t bring himself to care too much. He tries to lose himself in the steady beat and the comforting voices of his Tribemates.

However, the next time he turns back towards Oikawa, he can’t stop the gasp of surprise that flies off of his lips.

Oikawa trails his right hand through the air, and five streaks of flame, emanating from his fingertips, hang in the air. It looks incredibly difficult, but even then Oikawa goes even further, raising his hand beneath the lines of fire and narrowing his eyes in concentration. The fire twitches, flickering unsteadily in the air before the lines suddenly move to his hand, forming a little ball of liquid fire that pulses with the strange life that fire seems to have.

Suga’s never seen this before, and he does miss a beat this time, but no one notices in the cacophony of sound and movement that the Tribe has become, such a sharp difference from what they had been like only an hour earlier that Suga almost wants to cry in relief.

Oikawa is moving now; his eyes narrowed in concentration as he watches the waterbenders at the center of the dance. When he moves his arms fluidly, copying their motions, the flames coil and twist in the air like water. Oikawa suddenly smiles, the glow of the gentle fireball cast over his face, and begins to move with more confidence, distributing his weight evenly between his two feet and moving gracefully, controlling his fire just as the waterbenders controlled the water globes.

He’s starting to attract more attention now, and the firebender seems genuinely surprised when someone grabs him and tugs him into the circle, almost making him lose control of his liquid fire. Suga chuckles—what had he expected? The Tribe wouldn’t let anyone who could dance _not_ participate.

The tune of the flute has grown quicker now. The ceremony has shifted—it is no longer focused on the sorrow, instead transmitting the sense of joy in continuing life and hope for the future of the tribe. Suga had been worried about this part, too, thinking that perhaps in their grief the tribe would not participate, not yet be ready to move on. To his surprise it is the complete opposite. The tribe throws themselves into the faster dance without hesitation. There are still tears, but there is also laughter intermixed—the relief of being safe, despite the destruction of their homes.

Suga switches to another pattern that fits Kiyoko’s new melody, faster and more energetic. The dancing becomes more complicated, smooth flips and turns and twists being incorporated into their movements.

Oikawa has found himself in the center of the circle with the other waterbenders, his liquid flames creating an ethereal glow that reflects off of the floating streams of water. His jaw is clenched from the difficult bending as he moves his fire much like a waterbender would, but the small smile on his face says that he is at least enjoying himself somewhat.

His eyes are on Iwaizumi, Suga notices. Each movement the waterbender makes is mirrored by the fire prince. Iwaizumi seems to notice too, because a small smirk appears on his face, and he rotates, twisting around to face Oikawa directly and swirling the water around him in controlled streams with two flowing arms. Oikawa does the same, stepping closer, until they’re only a foot apart, water and fire spinning in tandem. Their footwork gets more frantic, and Suga obliges them, increasing his pounding to a quicker pace and grinning as they twist around each other, eyes locked and narrowed in a silent challenge to keep up.

The song ends with a smattering of drumbeats and a final high note from Kiyoko’s flute, and the tribe is cheering in celebration of life, sending bursts of water up into the air. Suga only has eyes for the two in the center of the tribe, staring at each other with wide eyes. There is a spark of connection between them that hadn’t been there before.

Suga has a good feeling about this. Those two will go on to do great things, he _knows_ it.

He sets down the drum and shares a tired smile with Kiyoko before addressing the tribe with a more solemn expression.

“We have mourned enough, haven’t we? Our tribemates would wish for us to live on. And we owe many lives to that of the Fire Prince. Without his help, many more of our people would have died.”

Oikawa turns pink as the tribe suddenly surrounds him, brushing him gently and whispering a quiet murmur of “thank yous” from their lips.

Once their attentions have been turned back to him, Suga clasps his hands together.

“We honor the dead, and may the living live on,” Suga says, the finishing words of the death ceremony, and after a beat of silence, the Tribe bows at him.

“We shall. You have our thanks,” they say, and Suga blinks suddenly as tears of gratitude and relief suddenly threaten to flood his eyes.

“Thank you,” he replies, returning the bow. When he rises, he takes a deep breath and swallows.

He is chieftain now. It is his responsibility to lead his tribe, and when he looks up, they are all watching him, eyes full of trust that Suga prays isn’t misplaced.

“It is time to leave these waters,” he says. “Our homes may have been destroyed, but the tyrant Fire Lord will have to try much harder if he wishes to get rid of the Northern Water Tribe!”

The tribe’s cheer is deafening, and Suga feels a surge of hope.

He can do anything as long as he has the Tribe to support him.

They _will_ get through this.

They have to.

 

* * *

 

There is a dark shape floating in the water. Hinata can see it from his perch on the top spire of the Northern Air Temple. It’s fairly small, but Hinata has good eyesight, and it’s not often that things drift into the little bay. At first he thinks that it is a giant coy fish, but it’s too cold for them to be migrating this early, so that can’t be it.

It’s coming closer, and Hinata can’t take his eyes off of it. He’s naturally curious, after all.

He waits for a few more seconds before he gets too excited to wait any longer. The wind whips at his clothes as he stands, grabbing his bo staff with one hand, and with a whoop of excitement Hinata leans forwards and falls off the edge of the tower.

He loves this feeling—this intense euphoria that he can only find when he’s in the air. The other elements have their own perks, but Hinata finds the most joy when he is drifting with the winds, high above the ground and away from all of the troubles he deals with as the avatar. It is freeing, and gives him almost more energy than he can contain.

He is about halfway down the tower now, so he lifts his bo staff into the air and presses the release trigger. Vibrant orange wings emerge from the staff and Hinata laughs as he is caught by the wind and sent gliding gracefully over the bay below.

For a split second, Hinata can’t find the dark shape in the water, and he gets worried—but after another quick circle around the area he finds it resting near the shore, moving back and forth to the rhythm of the waves. It’s a simple task to land lightly beside it and wade into the gentle water to get closer.

The object glitters in the sunlight. When he gets closer he can tell its ice, and that’s not it—there’s something in it, too, that Hinata can’t quite tell what it is… is it a _person?_

He summons a flame to his hands and prepares to melt the ice, but hesitates. Melting ice takes a long time, and Hinata isn’t a very patient person. With a small pout he closes his eyes and reaches towards the water.

Waterbending has always been hardest to Hinata. Air is his birth element, and Fire and Earth are easily fueled with his own excitement and enthusiasm. Water, however, is completely different, relying on grace and poise rather than the kick and punch that normally accompanies the other elements. It takes concentration and patience, neither of which Hinata is very good at, but for the purpose of freeing the person in the ice Hinata slowly reaches out a hand and carefully places it on the cold surface. After a moment, the ice shivers under his touch and then melts, and a body splashes into the shallow surf.

“Crap,” Hinata mutters, dropping to grab the person’s head and wincing when his outstretched arm bangs against something solid and heavy. He eventually manages to wrap his arms around what he thinks is the person’s torso and drag them out of the water. They’re larger and significantly heavier than him, and when he finally manages to get them to dry land, he realizes why.

They’re wearing full fire nation armor, minus the helmet, and are completely unconscious. Hinata blinks in surprise and quickly kneels down, placing a hand over the newcomer’s throat and pressing two fingers against his jugular.

There are pulses, and Hinata sighs in relief.

Before Hinata can do anything else, suddenly a thunderous noise fills his ears. He flinches as the sound washes over him like a tide, and it takes a moment for him to realize that it is the giant summoning horn from the Temple. It is only used in times of dire need, and Hinata sucks in a confused breath at the rare occurrence.

There was only one reason the horn would be blown like this.

HIs vision. The flames. The burning—

 _The world is covered in flames wherever Hinata looks, and he is in the center of it all, watching helplessly as lives and civilizations crumble and burn_ _—_

He has to go back, now. The entire world could be in danger.

Hinata takes a step towards the temple before he remembers his Fire Nation guest, lying motionless on the sand. The wind stirs around them, and the other man’s black hair stirs around his face like a dark halo.

Hinata can’t just leave him here. He is the avatar, and responsible for all the people of the world—even those he does not know. With a grunt he bends a sphere of spinning air into existence and uses it to pluck the firebender off of the ground before setting off towards the temple at a run, the floating unconscious man trailing behind him.

Luckily for Hinata it isn’t too difficult of a journey back up to the temple—or if it is, he doesn’t notice anymore, because he comes down to the bay all the time.

He is halfway up the path to the temple gates when Akaashi comes into view, staring up into the sky as Kenma’s sky bison soars away. Hinata bites his lip—it’s bad if Kenma’s leaving. That never signifies anything good.

“Akaashi!” he calls out, slowing and allowing his floating guest to catch up with him. He is about to say more, but Akaashi’s head turns before Hinata can manage to explain anything else, and the second his eyes land on their Fire Nation guest his jaw drops, miles away from his usual composed expression.

That’s not a good sign, either.

“Hinata— _who is that?”_

Hinata relaxes and slowly drops his arms, allowing the orb of wind around the firebender to dissipate and lower him slowly to the ground. “I found him in the bay, trapped in ice,” Hinata tells his elder, noting how Akaashi’s frown deepens. “I couldn’t just leave him there.”

Akaashi sighs and warily approaches the firebender, looking him over carefully and with an element of distrust that Hinata’s never seen from him before.

“I...I’ll have Yamaguchi look at him, but…”

“But?” Hinata says, blinking in confusion, and Akaashi’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Have you been down by the bay this entire time?” he asks, and Hinata grins sheepishly.

“I _was_ on the top of the east tower,” the little avatar admits, shuffling his weight across his feet. “And then I was in the bay. I haven’t been here all day.”

Akaashi’s face twists again, and now his beautiful features are marred by sorrow.

“You didn’t hear,” he breathes. “Hinata…”

“Hear what?” Hinata says, nervously fidgeting back and forth. He’s getting anxious now—what was going on?

Akaashi takes a deep breath.

“Kenma got word from one of his friends in the Fire Nation this morning.”

Hinata nods—that happens all the time, Kenma has several Fire Nation friends. But that still didn’t explain—

“The Fire Lord and most of his family were killed by Ushijima Wakatoshi, a nephew of the Fire Lord, who killed anyone who stood in his way in order to take the throne. The Prince survived because he was on a mission in the North at that time, but Kenma’s friend told us that the new Fire Lord launched an attack on the Northern Water Tribe several days ago. They were wiped off the map.”

His voice is completely without emotion, but Hinata can see his hands are trembling as he speaks. The avatar cocks his head, opening his mouth—

And then it hits him, and he realizes what was just said.

People were dead. People had _died,_ and the Fire Nation was responsible for it. The Fire Lord and Lady were gone. The new Fire Lord was attacking.

War was coming.

His vision had been true.

Slowly, and with a deep sense of horror that Hinata hadn’t even been aware he could feel until now, he turns his head to stare at the unconscious firebender on the ground.

He had been frozen in ice. Ice, that a waterbender had probably created. This man had fought against the Water Tribe—

Had he killed anyone there? Was Hinata staring a murderer? How many lives had he taken before he had been frozen by a desperate defender?

Hinata felt like he was going to be sick.

“What should we do?” he says numbly, and doesn’t even recognize his own voice.

Akaashi pauses and glances back up towards the temple.

“Kenma’s gone to take care of other things,” he says, “Like I said… take him to Yamaguchi, but have Tsukishima keep watch over them both. We can’t trust him.”

Hinata blinks and nods, and can feel his lower lip trembling ever so slightly. Akaashi catches the minute motion and closes his eyes for a moment, placing comforting hand on the Avatar’s shoulders.

“It will be alright, Shouyou.”

Hinata bites down on his tongue and steels himself. He is the Avatar, and he will be strong. He can do this.

Slowly he draws away from Akaashi’s hand and takes a deep breath.

“Sorry,” he says. “I—I’m fine.”

 _I’m not fine!_ a tiny voice inside his head screams, but Hinata shuts it out.

He is the Avatar.

He is strong.

Akaashi smiles, but his usually kind expression is dimmed by the undertone of shock and disbelief that is still riding on his every movement. “I’ll take him, if you want. You should get some rest.”

Hinata nods mutely, and watches as Akaashi skillfully bends the firebender into the air again, turning and moving back through the opening of the temple.

He is still trembling. He has always loved being the avatar—each element is a part of him, and the spirits he can speak to bring him more joy than talking to real people sometimes did.

He loves who he is, and is content with the responsibilities that it comes with.

But it is times like these, when Hinata is absolutely terrified of what his future will bring, that he wishes that he was normal.

 

* * *

 

The passageway is completely dark. Ennoshita can’t see a thing, so he relies on his bending instead, sending tiny tremors of power darting through the earth around him. He’s no metalbender, but he’s skilled enough to do this, at least. All around him he can sense that the underground tunnel extends for miles. Luckily, he won’t have to go that far to get to where he needs to go.

He continues to push forward, steps slightly hesitant but continuous. Around a slight curve his eyes finally pick up on a faint source of light ahead. He quickens his pace, and finally comes out into a larger cavern. There is a figure standing near the edge, a blazing fire in front of them, and despite himself, Ennoshita smiles.

“Hello, Ukai,” he greets, stepping through the larger cave to shake hands with the older man. Ukai smiles at him, but it is strained, and doesn’t really reach his eyes. There are dark bags under his eyes, and his entire body is tense.

“Ennoshita, it’s good to see you,” Ukai replies. “I wish it were under more agreeable circumstances.”

Ennoshita winces at the reminder and bends several stone seats around the fire. Ukai sits, and his shoulders slump.

“Are you alright?” Ennoshita asks lowly, carefully looking over the firebender. “I’ve heard terrible things.”

Ukai chuckles bitterly. “Fine, I’m fine,” he says, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “I’m not high enough on the totem pole that Ushijima cares enough about me to do anything. I know others who aren’t as lucky, though.”

There is a very slight tremor in one of the tunnels to their left—so light that it’s almost undetectable, and Ennoshita turns as Kenma emerges, blinking at the sudden light from Ukai’s flames.

“Right on time, Kenma,” he says. “Sit with us?”

Kenma nods and moves over to the seat.

“I hope you didn’t wait long,” he says, perching lightly on the stone. His arrow tattoos and golden hair almost gleam in the firelight.

“Not at all,” Ukai says. “Now we just need one more.”

The empty fourth seat, meant for the Water Tribe representative, is empty, and they all stare at it for a long moment before Ukai closes his eyes and lowers his head.

“No one will come from them,” he says bitterly, voice tinged with sorrow. “The Northern Tribe was nearly wiped out, and the Southern Tribe is still insistent on staying out of the conflict.”

There is a moment of silence as all three of them mourn, quietly, for the loss of life and friends. Ennoshita sighs.

“Something needs to be done.”

His voice cuts through the silence, and both other representatives stare at him. He lifts his head. “We can’t let Ushijima do what he wants. I doubt he’ll stop with just the Water Tribes, correct?”

Ukai nods wearily, and Ennoshita grimaces. “He’ll come for the Earth Kingdom next, don’t you think? And then the Air Temples. No one’s safety is guaranteed.”

There is a moment of silence, when they are all quiet and slightly fearful of what is to come. It is Kenma who breaks it.

“Then it’s time to start a rebellion,” he says, and just like that, Ennoshita feels it—a sharp stab of hope. “We can’t allow Ushijima to walk all over us. The Nations will have to work together to stop him.”

“Of course,” Ennoshita agrees. “I will speak to the Earth King about gathering our armies immediately.”

Ukai nods, but holds up a hand. “Let’s not send in the army yet. Ushijima has filled his armies and courts with his own chosen people. If we deploy the Earth Army immediately, it will mean full out war between the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation. It’ll be a world war.”

Kenma lowers his head.

“It will be a World War even if we don’t get involved,” he says, and all three of them fall silent again. Ukai’s shoulders slump, and the fire dims in response to the firebender’s mood.

After a moment, Ukai sighs.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I just don’t want to believe it. Too many people have already lost their lives due to Ushijima’s tyranny. It’s just as bad within the Fire Nation. The people are oppressed and abused on a daily basis, and those who speak out against him disappear by the next morning.” He shudders. “I can’t let my people suffer any longer, even if it does mean worldwide conflict.”

Kenma nods curtly. “Then it is decided. We’ll return to our leaders and tell them to prepare for war.” Ennoshita nods and stands, but before he can go anywhere Kenma turns to Ukai, expression twisted into something that Ennoshita can’t quite identify in the steadily diminishing firelight.

“Your plan, Ukai?”

Ukai stands as well, and despite his obvious lack of enthusiasm he forces a tired grin.

“I know a guy who’ll be willing to help me start a rebellion. In fact, I’d be surprised if he hasn’t started his plan already. He’s higher up in the army than I am, too, so he can get much more information.”

“Is he trustworthy?”

“More than anyone else I know. Kuroo’s always been--”

Kenma blinks suddenly. “Kuroo? Kuroo _Tetsurou?_ ”

“Yeah,” Ukai answers. “You know him?”

Kenma glances to the side and nods. “A close friend, and informant. Do you know… is he alright?”

Ukai’s grin slips from his face, and his eyes dart down to the ground.

“He’s strong. He isn’t safe, not by a long shot, but he’ll make it through. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Kenma doesn’t look convinced, but he nods unhappily and turns away, something like panicked worry flashing in his eyes before he begins to walk away.

“Good luck,” the airbender calls over his shoulder, voice composed as if the previous conversation hadn’t even occurred. “Prepare your nations for war. It won’t be long until the Fire Nation Army comes knocking.”

Ennoshita nods and clenches his fists determinedly at his sides as he turns, leaving the meeting point without looking back.

He will not let the Earth Kingdom villages suffer the same fate as the Northern Water Tribe.

The Earth King awaits him.

  



	4. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured it's time I update this. It's been a long, long time. I'm sorry! If you're still with this story, please consider taking the time to re-familiarize yourself with the first couple chapters.

“The town is in range, sir,” the faceless man reports, and Bokuto feels his mouth go dry. He nods robotically, turning, and looks at the small town before them.

He can imagine what’s going on out there. The town is just waking up from its slumber. Fathers are leaving for work, mothers are starting breakfast, and children are stumbling out of bed, rubbing at their sleepy little eyes and tottering towards the kitchen—

And he, Bokuto Koutarou, is about to destroy it all.

His hands are shaking. He can’t do this. He can’t. He’d never forgive himself. This is too much. He can’t just kill of hundreds of innocent people—

But apparently Ushijima will.

His hands won’t stop shaking.

“Captain?” someone says, and he glances up to see that every crewmember on the deck is watching him. He’s missed some sort of cue, and as the flagship rocks with the waves of the sea he suddenly finds it very difficult to breath.

Some of the eyes on him are sympathetic. Some seem just as horrified as Bokuto feels, trembling at their stations and twitching nervously. They don’t want to do this either.  
But then he looks again, and sees the accusing and dangerous glares of Ushijima’s supporters all around him. Sees them tensing, preparing to strike him down if he says the wrong thing. They far outnumber the sympathizers, and Bokuto shudders.

The proper word sticks in his throat, and it takes him a moment to force it out. As soon as it is said, he regrets it, but it is far too late to stop it.

“Fire.”  


* * *

  
Noya rolls under the barrage of flames and lets his momentum carry him back to his feet. A powerful stomp of his foot causes a tremor in the ground, and a wall of earth rises at his command, advancing with the force of an avalanche and slamming into the column of Fire Nation soldiers.

“Behind you!” someone shouts, and Noya ducks as more fire rockets above his head. He feels a rush of air as Tanaka darts past him, sword an ever-moving blur as he slashes through the ranks of their attackers.

Noya is already so tired. The Fire Nation’s barrage of attacks hadn’t been unexpected, but as the only earthbender with defense power strong enough to withstand long attacks, he had been responsible for maintaining a large earth wall to defend the areas of the town that hadn’t yet been evacuated. The enormous walls he had been required to make to protect the people had used up a large portion of his strength, and eventually they had been shattered—but not until Daichi and the rest of their police force had gotten most of the inhabitants to safety.

The Fire Nation troops had landed soon after, as Noya had gulped down water and a bite to eat in a futile attempt to regain his strength. At the speed the enemy armies could travel, the fleeing refugees would be easily hunted down—and it was Noya’s job to stop that from happening.

He turns, squinting at the bright bursts of fire that are barreling towards them, and braces himself, breathing inwards powerfully and using both hands to pull a thick earth wall up to defend himself and Tanaka, who is still battling fiercely behind him. His battle cries and the harsh sound of steel on armor keep Noya on his feet. It means that his comrades are still with him, fighting, and as long as he lives he will fight to keep them safe.

The fire flares around his wall, licking at the sides, but it’s too thick to hurt either of them. Tanaka dispatches his opponents and Noya senses more than feels him dash closer for more protection.

“How are you?” the nonbender shouts over the roaring flames, and Noya spares a moment to shoot his best friend a grin, ignoring the sweat dripping down the side of his face.

“Never been better!” Noya shouts, shifting his focus to his feet and twisting them into the ground, wrapping them in hard stone to give himself more stability. The Fire Nation soldiers are persistent—when one stream of fire stops, another starts, but Noya keeps his wall firmly in place, unaffected by the heat.

He’s lying, of course, and he knows Tanaka is the same—completely exhausted, but determined to continue the fight, even if it means fighting to the end. They were separated from Daichi and Asahi when the fighting first began, and though the streams of escaping people were thick, no other benders volunteered to help them fight. The Fire Nation Army is too powerful, with a terrifying reputation, and as far as Noya knows, it’s their tiny squad of four men against the most powerful military might in the world.

None of them are about to let that intimidate them, however.

The fire dies down for a split second, and Noya makes his move, punching out and sending his wall hurtling at the soldiers. They scatter, and Noya is satisfied when a large number of men are sent flying by his attack.

“Noya!” The call comes from behind him, and instinctively Noya crouches, offering his small back for Tanaka to use as a springboard. They’ve practiced this move hundreds of times in their time together, and their old signals aren’t even needed anymore—they act as one. Tanaka goes flying into the air and brings his katana whistling down on the enemy, moving through them in a storm of steel. Noya backs him up with carefully placed spikes of earth rising up from the ground to impale anyone who gets too close.

When the last enemy in that particular group of soldiers falls, Noya sighs in relief, wearily letting his body slump out of his earth bending position. Tanaka sidles up next to him, sheathing his sword for the moment. He’s breathing hard, but he still flashes the earthbender a smile.

“Where do you think Asahi and Daichi are?” Noya asks him quickly, straightening when the sounds of stomping metal boots echoes around them. Tanaka glances around, tensing.  
“I don’t know,” he says, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword and inching the other towards his belt, where several throwing knives rested at his hip. “But they’ll be fine. I’ve got complete faith in them.”

“I do, too,” Noya agrees, and then freezes when the approaching footsteps get louder, with the sounds of grumbling tanks mixed in as well. They’re standing in the middle of the street, abandoned houses on both sides, and Noya can’t help but feel terribly exposed. He grabs Tanaka by the arm and is grateful when his friend doesn’t pull away. With a quick breath he stomps his foot and the ground opens up beneath them, swallowing them completely and then closing up to leave them in darkness.

They are both silent as the ground shakes from tanks and men who move above them, and it takes a few tense minutes for it to subside slightly. They can still hear the sounds of the group of soldiers, but they are no longer above them. Tanaka lights a match, and Noya turns to see his face illuminated by the tiny flame.

“Nice move,” the nonbender says, shifting so that the fire is farther away from his nose. “So, what’s our next move?”

Noya bites his lip. He’s not Daichi, and he’s never been comfortable with making decisions for the team. It’s his job to defend, not decide where to attack—but Daichi isn’t here right now, and Tanaka is with him. Ryuu is more than capable of stopping him from making a stupid call.

He glances upwards at the sealed earth above their heads.

“These troops aren’t headed in the right direction,” he comments, throwing his hands out and shoving the earth away from him to make a wider cavern. “They’re moving West, back towards the bay.”

Tanaka jerks in surprise.

 “Why?” he hisses. “They don’t think we’re good enough to finish off?” The nonbender scoffs, before he suddenly quiets down, eyes going wide. Noya blinks at him.

"Ryuu?”

“Noya,” Tanaka says, and there’s a horrified tone to his voice that Noya’s never heard before. “They’re going back to their ships. The only place they can go this time of day is down the river, since the current to go back to sea is too strong.”

All at once, it hits him, and Noya reels back in shock.

“The refugees will head along the river,” he says, and Tanaka’s tense nod only confirms that fear. “The Fire Nation will attack them. But—but why? Why would they do such a thing?” He’s horrified—the people have done nothing wrong, and if this is a move for more land the Fire Nation has all but claimed the town already. There was no need for them to go after it’s inhabitants—

Unless… unless the Fire Nation had a different goal in mind, in coming here. Unless their goal was simply to massacre anyone in sight, make an example. Display a massive show of power and strength.

Noya feels sick.

“They’ll be slaughtered,” Tanaka says hoarsely. When Noya looks at him, his friend looks just as bad as Noya feels—a bit green in the face, and absolutely horror-struck.

“We can’t let this happen,” Noya says. “Can we stop them before they get to the ship?”

“I don’t know,” Tanaka grits out, shifting anxiously. “And if we go after them and fail, would we be able to catch up to the survivors before the Fire Nation ships got their?”  
Noya shakes his head, clenching his fists. The stones by his feet tremble in reaction to his turmoil before he takes a deep breath in an attempt to steady himself.

(It doesn’t really work, but he pretends like it does.)

“Well, we can’t just sit here,” he snaps. “Daichi and Asahi were still moving with the stragglers when we were separated, right? The chances that they’re still there are pretty high. If we fail to stop the troops here, they’ll defend the survivors.” He glances at Tanaka. “Right?”

He’s so uncertain. He doesn’t want anyone else to die, although that’s probably unavoidable at this point—but he can sure try to protect everyone. But here, if he’s wrong and Daichi and Asahi are still in the town somewhere…the people he had sworn to protect upon arriving here would die.

“We’ll split up,” Tanaka suddenly says, and Noya whips his head up to stare at the nonbender in disbelief.

“Wha—Ryuu—!”

“Hear me out!” Tanaka hisses, grabbing Noya’s forearm firmly. “It’s logical! You go along the river, catch up with the refugees. I’ll see what I can do here, and stop the Fire Nation before they can even get on their ships.”

Noya bristles.

“I’m not leaving you!” he growls, but Tanaka meets his fierce glare with a steely look of his own. It’s not often that they argue, and Noya hates to admit it, but when they do, Tanaka wins. He has much more patience than most would suspect when it came to what he believed in.

Noya falters.

“Ryuu,” he says gravely, “There’s too many. They’ll kill you.”

Tanaka grins.

“They can try,” he says, and then hisses in pain because the match has burned his finger. He drops it, and suddenly they are returned to darkness.

They wait in silence for a moment, and then Tanaka puts a hand on Noya’s shoulder gently.

“You want to protect everyone, including me. I know that’s always been most important to you. But I need you to trust me this time, Yuu. I’ll rejoin you guys once I’m finished, I promise.”

Noya swallows.

“Fine,” he relents unhappily. “We’ll split up. But I still think it’s a bad idea, and when it goes south, I’ll be the first one to say I told you so.”

He opens the earth above them and climbs out, blinking against the sunlight. The smoke above them is thickening. There are more fires now—courtesy of the Fire Nation.

He turns to his best friend and clasps his hand firmly.

“Don’t die,” Noya grumbles at him. “Or I’ll kill you.”

Tanaka snorts and unsheathes his sword.

“I’m counting on it,” he says, and then he’s off, sprinting through the blackened wreckage of the streets towards the bay.

Noya turns on his heel and doesn’t watch as he disappears in the smoke. He’s needed elsewhere… and he trusts Tanaka. He promised he would be back.

Ryuu has never broken a promise to him before.

He begins to sprint in the opposite direction, steeling himself for the battle to come.

* * *

Kageyama is cold.

He feels… strange. His body isn’t moving like he wants it to, and his eyes are too heavy for it to be normal sleep. His limbs aren’t responding at all.

“Oh, you’re finally awake. That took long enough.”

Kageyama flinches at the voice and immediately winces at the pain that flashes through his skull. Colors blossom beneath his closed eyelids, and he can’t help the low groan that escapes him as the wave of torment resonates through his body.

“You aren’t dying. Honestly, can’t you put up with a little discomfort for ten seconds?”

“Tsukki!” a second voice says, slightly offended. “Don’t say things like that! How would you feel if you had been frozen in ice for that long?”

The first voice (Tsukki?) scoffs.

“I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to be frozen in the first place.”

“Tsukki!”

“Fine, fine. Calm down, Yamaguchi.”

Kageyama opens his eyes slowly and is grateful to see that the room is dark. It’s soothing—at least until an unknown face moves into his view, and Kageyama jolts in surprise at the freckled face hovering over him.

“Don’t move for a minute, alright? I’m worried you might have hypothermia. How do you feel?”

Kageyama blinks at him.

“Uh—fine, I think. I—it’s a little cold, but that’s it.”

“Hmm.” The freckled boy studies him intently. “Your speech sounds fine. Do you remember what happened before this?”

Kageyama furrows his brow.

“I was…”

_“You have a lot to learn,” the waterbender says gruffly. His voice sounds slightly distorted from the ice. The cold is seeping into Kageyama’s bones, and he struggles to tap into his inner fire to unfreeze himself, but he can’t pull in enough breath to properly access his flames._

_No, no, no--how is this--impossible--_

_“Don’t worry,” the waterbender says. “The ice will melt eventually, and I’m pretty sure you won’t suffocate. Stay put.”_

Kageyama gasps.

“I was in the North Pole,” he says breathlessly. “There was a waterbender—“

Suddenly there is a fierce growl from his right, and the freckled person is yanked away. A second face hovers above him, and this person, a blond, grabs him by the front of his robes and hauls him into the air. He shakes Kageyama furiously, an enraged glare on his face.

“So you admit it,” he says, and his voice is cold and controlled despite his obvious anger. “You admit that you were at the North Pole. How many people did you kill?”

Kageyama gapes at him wordlessly, and is shaken again for his silence.

“How many?” the blond hisses again, and Kageyama snaps to his senses.

“None!” he says indignantly. “I haven’t killed anyone; I was confined to the ship when we reached the North Pole!”

“Liar.” his attacker snarls. “You were incased in ice, how do you explain that if you were on the ship?”

Kageyama fervently hopes that the freckled kid will come to his rescue again, but he makes no move to stop his companion. He really doesn’t want to admit that he was defeated so quickly, but the odds of them ever releasing him if he doesn’t explain are too low for him to withhold any information.

“Our ship was attacked, and I was frozen before I could do any damage to the waterbender,” he grumbles unhappily, and is completely expecting it when the blond snorts and releases him. Kageyama slumps back onto the pillow and feels his head spin, the world swimming unsteadily before his eyes.

“Sorry,” the freckled kid says suddenly, appearing at his side. “Tsukki’s a bit aggressive right now. He’s not normally like that.”

 Kageyama finds that hard to believe.

"You look a bit pale,” freckles comments worriedly. “Would you like some food? Water?”

 “Water,” Kageyama says, and then he freezes in sudden revelation.

He has absolutely no idea where he is.

It’s silly, that he hadn’t realized this before now, but he feels like he’s slightly justified—hypothermia, and the fact that he was attacked and terrorized within two minutes of waking up, would have both contributed to his lack of understanding of his situation.

He sits up slowly and regrets it almost immediately, wincing hard at the pain that flares through his body. His inner fire isn’t as bright as usual, and he frowns as he casts his senses deeper into his body, searching for the familiar warmth that comes with his flames.

“Here you are,” freckles says, returning to his side. In his hands are a large cup of water and a bowl full of piping hot soup. Kageyama accepts it blindly and finally takes a closer look at the guy, staring past his initial observation of freckles.

He’s fairly tall, and wearing an orange and yellow garb that Kageyama recognizes immediately as airbender material. His eyes are warm, but there’s definite wariness in the way he moves closer—he’s…not scared, but cautious. His other recognizable features are the arrow tattoos running down his arms and forehead, although it’s half hidden by his hair. Kageyama berates himself inwardly for not noticing them sooner (although in his defense, he had other things on his mind at the time).

“My name is Yamaguchi Tadashi. I’m the medic around here,” freckles—Yamaguchi says. He flashes Kageyama a sweet smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Shut up, Yamaguchi,” a voice hisses from the other side of the room. Kageyama turns his head and sees the blond push his glasses higher up on his face. “He’s the enemy, remember? Don’t let your guard down.”

Yamaguchi sighs.

“We don’t necessarily know that, Tsukki. Are you going to introduce yourself?”

The blond scowls. “No.”

Yamaguchi huffs, and turns back to Kageyama.

“That’s Tsukishima Kei. He’s been assigned to watch you for the time being.”

Kageyama meets Tsukishima’s sour gaze and glares back at him, again noticing the airbender tattoos half hidden beneath his blond hair.

“Nice to meet you,” he grunts out forcefully, simply because it’s courtesy. “I’m Kageyama Tobio.” Tsukishima doesn’t reply. Kageyama narrows his eyes.

He hates this idiot already.

So, he knows he’s in an airbender temple. He’s assuming the Northern one, simply because that makes sense, but he wants to be sure.

“Where are we?” he asks, shifting his gaze back to Yamaguchi. The medic shoots him another kind smile.

“The Northern Air Temple,” he answers. “The—one of our people found you floating in the bay. We rescued you.”

Kageyama nods, and then, before he can get nervous, blurts out:

“What are you going to do with me?”

Yamaguchi blinks in surprise and draws back a little.

“What are we going to... what do you mean?”

Kageyama sighs.

“I’m Fire Nation,” he says shortly, as if that explains it all. Tsukishima lets out a hum of agreement, but Yamaguchi is unfazed, cocking his head to the side.

“Well, first you’re going to eat that food, and then you’re going to meet with the head monk. He’ll decide what to do… but you didn’t kill anyone, right? You should be fine. Help us, and we’ll help you.”

It’s such a simple answer, and Kageyama grits his teeth. They obviously don’t know who he is, otherwise he would be taken captive and in a cell instead of being treated in a warm medical center. He had no desire to be used as a bargaining chip—Ushijima cares nothing for him, anyway, so it wouldn’t get them very far.

Well, he’s not going to be the one to point that out.

“Right,” he says carefully. “I’ll make sure to do that.”

Yamaguchi beams at him, and Kageyama sticks the spoon in his mouth.

Of course, it’s all vegetables. He should have expected as much.

Yamaguchi is humming and Tsukishima is sulking in the corner as Kageyama eats, and then suddenly a large gust of wind, enough to make Yamaguchi blink in surprise, sweeps through the room.

“Oh, no,” Tsukishima says. “I told Akaashi to keep him busy—“

And then suddenly a kid with a bright orange mop of hair comes darting in through the open window, and right onto Kageyama’s chest. The backlash of wind that follows the dramatic entrance makes a stack of papers on the far side of the room fly into the air, and in the chaos Kageyama realizes that something—someone—is sitting on him.

Bright eyes stare into his own excitedly.

“Uwaaaah, so this is the firebender! Yo, I’m Hinata Shouyou! What’s your name?”

He’s really close to Kageyama’s face, and he’s grateful when Yamaguchi gives the newcomer a little shove, sending him flopping off of the bed. The orange-haired boy sends out a burst of air to prevent himself from hitting the ground, and stands upright.

He’s tiny, and he has airbender tattoos just like the other two do. Kageyama blinks at him for a long moment as he vibrates in place with excitement.

“How old are you? How many battles have you fought in? What’s your name? How hot does it get in the fire nation? Are you a good firebender? What’s—“

“Great,” Tsukishima mutters. “Once he starts it’s impossible to get him to start.”

Slightly overwhelmed, Kageyama looks to Yamaguchi for help. The freckled airbender gives him a sheepish look and steps in between Kageyama and the bouncy newcomer.  
“Hinata, he’s still recovering. Cut him a break for a minute!”

Hinata stops then, and cocks his head before nodding and settling down slightly.

“Sorry,” he says honestly, but the bright smile on his face hasn’t disappeared. “What’s your name?”

Kageyama sighs.

“Kageyama Tobio,” he introduces himself again.

“Cool, nice to meet you,” Hinata says. Kageyama thinks that his name sounds familiar, but he’s not sure why. “I’m glad you’re awake! I found you in the ice, and you were all blaaaaah, but then once the ice melted you were kind of… muuuffff, you know? I was worried!”

Kageyama doesn’t know, and looks to the other airbenders for a translation. Unfortunately, they seem just as lost as he is.

Suddenly Hinata moves again, jumping closer to the bed.

“Hey, Kageyama, are you feeling alright? How are you? Could you bend if you had to?” he says excitedly.

“Er—yes?” Kageyama answers, confused, and Hinata’s grin widens.

“Great! Yamaguchi, I’m borrowing him for a minute!”

Yamaguchi and Tsukishima both start in surprise as Hinata reaches down and pulls Kageyama off of the bed and onto his feet. Kageyama’s eyes widen at the surprising strength in Hinata’s thin arms.

“Hinata, you can’t just—“ Tsukishima starts to protest, but Hinata turns on him, happy smile still in place but a dangerous spark suddenly lighting in his eyes. Tsukishima rears back a little, and Kageyama hides his gasp of surprise at how innocently feral Hinata looks.

“Why not?” Hinata whines. “I just wanna spar with him! I spar with you guys so much, it’s gotten boring!”

Tsukishima scowls at him and it looks like he’s going to protest again, but before he can speak Hinata has grabbed Kageyama for the second time and, without even waiting for Kageyama to grab on, leaped into the air through the still open window.

And then they’re free-falling, and Kageyama feels his heart beating a hole in his chest. They’re high above ground, but falling fast, and Kageyama flails wildly for a few terrifying seconds before suddenly two hands grab the shirt he had been wearing underneath his armor. With a jolt, and a whoop from his new ride, they’re suddenly soaring. Kageyama looks up to see Hinata frantically attempting to juggle both his passenger and a bright orange glider, and closes his eyes a moment later.

He’s fairly convinced that this is some sort of airbender ploy to kill him, so he’s surprised when Hinata seems to get everything under control, and their ride smoothens out significantly.

“Are you okay?” Hinata asks, and Kageyama hesitantly opens his eyes and looks up. The airbender is peering down at him. When he looks back, he can see the window of the tower they had leaped out of, but no one is following them.

That was strange. He was a prisoner and a Fire Nation one at that—why wasn’t anyone coming after them? And why hadn’t the other two protested more when Hinata had showed up to take Kageyama away?

“I’m fine,” he answers. “Are they going to chase us? I thought I was supposed to have a guard.”

Hinata laughs, bright and clear.

“They could try, but they know they’d never catch up. I fly really well, you know. And as for the guard…” Hinata’s expression suddenly turns mischievous. “I think I’m qualified enough to keep you in check.”

What?

“Um… what do you mean by that?” Kageyama asks apprehensively, watching the ground roll beneath them, and Hinata laughs again.

“I’m the avatar,” he says brightly, and suddenly Kageyama understands everything.

“Oh,” he says.

* * *

  
Tanaka ducks underneath the fireball, rolling towards the enemy soldier and popping up right in front of him, slashing forwards with his sword and cleaving through the gap in the man’s armor. He continues running past him, and when heat hits his retreating back he darts to the side and turns to look back. One of the men he had knocked to the ground earlier is standing; throwing his fist out for another attack, but Tanaka grits his teeth and sends a throwing knife darting forwards before the flames can reach him. The soldier crumples, and then Tanaka is running again.

There are too many patrols out here. He doesn’t have enough time to take them all down—he’s pressed enough for time as it is, and the ship is still a distance away.

If he can’t reach it before they leave, then the fleeing citizens will be doomed, and all of his team’s efforts will be for nothing.

He rounds a corner, leaping over an abandoned cart in the middle of the cobblestone road and nearly clipping the side of a house. His footsteps echo through the empty street, and the stomping of his combat boots aren’t the only sounds—in every direction the lingering echoes of heavy Fire Nation armor and hissing flames reach his ears. The town is crawling with his enemies, and it’s a wonder Tanaka hasn’t run into more.

He makes another turn, one that’s sure to take him straight for the sea, and freezes as dozens of eyes land on his panting form.

“Spoke too soon,” he mutters to himself, narrowing his eyes and taking a few nervous steps backwards. A column of soldiers are positioned directly in front of him. He’s caught them by surprise, but they move with the efficiency of trained men, grouping and taking fighting positions.

Tanaka swears. He doesn’t have time for this. He’s close to his goal now, but there are too many people in his way—he won’t make it in time if he chooses to fight.

He whirls on his heel and darts down a side street, and a blaze of fire slams into the wall where he had been standing mere seconds ago, scorching it completely black.

His katana, while fairly light compared to some of the other weapons Tanaka has handled in the past year, hinders his speed while unsheathed. Scowling, he tucks it away and focuses on his pace.

Metal clangs behind him. He’s being pursued. He expected it, of course, but that doesn’t make it any less irritating.

At the rate he’s going, it’s going to take far too long for him to reach the ships. And now that he’s obtained some unwanted tagalongs, he’s going to have to lose them before they understand his motive.

There’s a crate nearby, up against the side of a random house. Tanaka sprints towards it. If he can’t use the streets to get to the water, he’ll have to use a slightly more unconventional route.  
It’s a simple task to use the crate as a stepping stone to fling himself up onto the roof of the house. Before they had become part of the police force, when it had been just him, Noya, and his sister all alone in the streets, they had used the roofs all the time as escape methods when a trick had gone south. It’s been a while since Tanaka’s done it, but all of the things they had learned through their years of pick-pocketing came back to him in an instant.

The view from above the streets is much different than the view below, and Tanaka frowns grimly at the columns of black smoke rising above their once beautiful town.  
He’s going to make the Fire Nation pay for this.

He makes each jump from house to house easily. From this height he can see the very top of the bridge of the closest Fire Navy ship, and the sight makes him push his body harder, flying across the rooftops like it was second nature (it was).

He leaps above two patrols of soldiers. The first doesn’t see it coming, and shouts of alarm rise up as his shadow sweeps across their heads. The second must have either heard or somehow seen him coming, because the moment he makes to leap over the gap several fireballs come shooting from the street below. Tanaka tucks himself into a ball and rolls on impact with the next building, slightly singed but unharmed.

He can do this.

The end of the houses, the docks, quickly approached. Tanaka takes a slight risk and, after a cursory glance to make sure the street was empty, jumped off of the building. He rolls with impact again, but the rough landing jars his bones and made him stagger unsteadily for a moment before he regains his stride.

He emerges onto the docks and draws his sword, making a beeline towards the closest ship. There are a few men littering around the ramp, and they jolt in surprise when they hear his war cry, clearly not expecting an attack so close to their base of operations.

Tanaka is merciless, and cuts through them like butter, easily dodging their desperate flames. Noya is much faster than them—they don’t stand a chance.

The second they soldiers are out of the way Tanaka makes his way up onto the ship. He’s here to make some noise and cause a distraction, and give Noya enough time to catch up with the refugees (and hopefully the rest of their team) and get them away from the river.

He’s not stupid. He knows that he’s just thrown himself into the fire (almost literally), and that the likelihood of him surviving this is extremely slim.

But he doesn’t care, because the people are counting on him.

(He knows he promised Noya, but it’s for the good of the town. The small earthbender never would have agreed to split up had Tanaka not acted completely confident.)

There are many more men on the deck, attracted by their fellow soldier’s cries from Tanaka’s earlier victims. Some have swords, or are lifting flame-covered fists, and Tanaka tightens his grip on his sword, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of throwing knives.

He’ll take as many of them with him as he can.

His ferocious attack takes the first few men off guard, and before they can move Tanaka’s already killed several. He’s part of the police force for a reason, and he moves like a whirlwind of death through the enemy ranks. Neither steel nor blaze can touch him, and as he slashes his way across the deck he watches the shock on their faces disintegrate into the blank stare of death.

He’s not afraid of death, and he’s not afraid of killing either. There are too many lives on the line for him to think about it.

The grunts are beginning to hesitate now. He’s killed plenty of their comrades already, and the deck is slick with crimson. They form a ring around him, and that’s bad, because for all of Tanaka’s training and agility, his ability to dodge bending is unhelpful if he’s surrounded.

Good thing he has those throwing knives.

His aim is good, and more soldiers fall.

Unfortunately, his good luck is over. Now that he’s taken out most of the foot soldiers, more experienced and skilled enemies are coming into play. There is a slight shift in the air behind him, and that’s the only warning he gets before a sword comes rushing towards his head. He bends backwards to avoid it and strikes, stabbing his would-be killer, but he is forced to leave his back undefended and an expertly placed fireball slams into his side.

He swears and braces himself through the pain, struggling to stand, but his lapse in balance proves fatal—suddenly there are three men on top of him, pinning his limbs and all but crushing his lungs.

Tanaka struggles, even though he knows that it’s over. A foot grinds his fingers onto the metal surface of the boat, and he growls in barely disguised pain as he is forced to relinquish the iron grip on his trusty katana. His other arm is pinned behind his back, and his throwing knives, slung underneath his loose shirt with a belt, can’t be reached.

He’s done.

Someone hits him in the head, and he goes limp. Hands are swarming across his body, and he spits at someone as his arms are restrained, held between two burly men. He gets punched in the stomach for his efforts, and growls again.

“That was very brave of you, loner,” a voice suddenly says sweetly. Tanaka looks up through squinted eyes at the Fire Nation man standing in front of him, armor pristine and indicating a higher rank than anyone else he’s seen today. “I’m fairly impressed. You took out a good number of my crew.”

There is shifting among the gathered soldiers behind the man, and Tanaka gathers that they’re not all that happy about the casual way that he spoke of the massacre that had happened moments ago.

A knife is suddenly pressed to his throat, and Tanaka stiffens, reminding himself that he had done this for the people and struggling not to panic.

“Shall we kill him, Captain Daishou?”

Daishou narrows his eyes, a smile growing on his face, and Tanaka glares back at him.

“Yes, of course,” Daishou says, and Tanaka’s heart stops. As the soldiers jeer and the man holding the knife tenses, preparing for the kill, Daishou speaks again.

“But not just yet.”

The gathered Fire Nation soldiers freeze, and several confused expressions are passed through the ranks. Daishou’s smile is poisonous.

“I want him alive for now. We don’t know who he is, or what he knows. It’s possible that he’s simply a member of a local defense group… or, he’s someone else. He might know something.”

Tanaka doesn’t know anything, really—he’s just a member of a police force, nothing more, but if it prolongs his life, he’s not about to say anything in his own defense.

“Tie him up and take him to the bridge,” Daishou says. “I will personally be in charge of his interrogation… and I want our dear Captain Bokuto to watch.”

Dread pools in Tanaka’s stomach as snickers erupt from every side of the ship. He has no idea what Daishou’s talking about—who is Bokuto? But interrogation doesn’t sound good at all.

Daishou steps closer, sick amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I hope you’re a deep sleeper, warrior. The moment you wake up, you’ll wish that you never had.”

His fist darts out, and Tanaka’s world goes black.

* * *

  
Kunimi is the first to spot the land, and his excited cry stirs the entire tribe into a wave of relief and happiness. The land is only a dim haze on the horizon, but even the tiny sliver of green is enough to make them all long for solid ground.

Oikawa stands from where he had been meditating, soaking up the bright sunlight, and stares across the water at the mountains that had finally come into view.

Suga’s giving out orders efficiently on the other side of the deck, and Oikawa can hear his shouts from across the ship.

“Kunimi, keep watch! Matsukawa, Iwaizumi, I want you two on the back end of the ship. Take us forward!” There’s a momentary pause. “Where’s Prince Oikawa?”

Oikawa blinks in surprise and almost runs into Iwaizumi as he turns the corner. The waterbender is in a hurry, but there’s an excited smile on his face—a nice change from the scowl he had worn for the majority of the tribe’s exodus.

“Suga!” Oikawa says, shimmying past the rows of happy tribe members. Suga turns, and his face lights up in a bright smile.

“We made it,” he says. Oikawa returns his grin.

“I’m glad,” Oikawa says. He never would have forgiven himself had they not. “Now we just need to figure out where we are.”

Suga nods, and he hums, staring at the approaching shore seriously.

“There are several places that we could be; based on the currents that were directing us at first and the direction our benders pushed us in. There are plenty of Earth Kingdom colonies that would shelter us, but there are Fire Nation colonies around here as well. I’m not willing to take the chance that they’re sympathetic to you, Prince.”

Oikawa bows his head. Suga’s right—it’s better for them to avoid all contact with any extension of the Fire Nation.

“Heads up!” someone suddenly shouts, and the tribe’s faces immediately turn upwards. In front of them, high in the sky, are three dots, slowly but steadily growing larger.  
“What are they?” Oikawa hears someone cry in a panic, and he squints in an attempt to see the soaring objects better—

And then laughs out loud, because he knows exactly what they are.

“It’s the airbenders!” he yells, unable to keep the elation from his voice. The airbenders are peaceful, diplomatic people and brave warriors when they need to be. They had helped his father many times in past years—he silently pleads that they will help him as well. Despite his fears, the bright orange fabric of their gliders makes him relax slightly—the airbenders have a good reputation.

The Tribe has gotten to their feet, waving, and cheers split the air. Oikawa laughs again, because he can imagine how confused the airbenders must be, with a tribe of waterbenders appearing in an ice boat and cheering them on the moment they come into view.

One of the airbenders drops low as they approach, while the other two stay above the ship, floating in lazy spirals above the water. As the lower airbender reaches them and lands lightly on the ship, he spins the bo staff in a practiced movement, and the glider wings disappear.

Suga steps forwards. His eyes are wide, but he reaches out to the airbender with a diplomatic smile and a warm handshake.

Oikawa realizes that this is most likely the first time most of the tribe has seen airbending in action. The snowstorms and harsh weather conditions at the North Pole would have discouraged any visiting airbender from using their gliders, and he imagines that the Northern Tribe wouldn’t have gotten too many visitors, anyway.

The airbender on their ship as black hair and ivory skin, and he meets Suga’s handshake firmly, obviously wary of the newcomers but not shying away. He is confident in his movements—Oikawa realizes that he moves like someone with experience. This airbender has been in combat—most likely several instances. He’d recognize those movements anywhere—many of his father’s Royal Guards, as well as his own, had moved like that as well.

“We are the Northern Water Tribe,” Suga says. “My name is Sugawara Koushi, the chieftain. We come seeking your help.”

The airbender’s eyes suddenly widen, and he glances around at the gathered Tribe. Oikawa watches as his eyes sweep across the women, children, and weary warriors.

“You are… the Northern Tribe?” he asks, almost hesitantly, and Suga nods. The airbender relaxes suddenly, letting out a tremendous breath of air.

“My name is Akaashi Keiji,” he introduces. “The other airbenders and I had been under the impression that your tribe was attacked by the Fire Nation. It is good to see you alive and well.”

Suga bows his head. “It’s been a long journey,” he says. “I hate to burden your people, but we need shelter, and food. We’ve been living on fish and birds for a while now.”

Akaashi smiles softly.

“It would be our pleasure to assist you,” he says. “The Northern Air Temple is just past this bay. Do your men have the strength to continue bending your ship?”

Suga glances behind him at Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, who both nod. “They do,” he confirms. Akaashi lifts his bo staff into the air, and with a click the glider wings are released.

“Follow us back to the temple,” he says. “We will do everything in our power to help you.”

Suga’s shoulders slump, as if a ton of bricks have been removed from his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, almost reverently, and Akaashi gives him another kind smile before leaping into the air with a gust of wind and soaring into the sky.

Suga seems frozen, gratitude and relief overwhelming him, and Iwaizumi jumps forwards, placing a hand on Suga’s shoulder and addressing the tribe at the same time.

“Everyone who has the strength to bend, to the back of the ship! We’re almost there!” His eyes gleam at the promise of dry land, and Oikawa swallows the lump in his throat and heads towards the back of the ship.

There are already plenty of waterbenders there, and the ship suddenly picks up speed at their eagerness. Oikawa wants to help somehow, but before he can even get into his bending stance a hand rests on his shoulder. It’s Matsukawa, and he shakes his head.

“Wait a minute,” he says. “All they know is that we were attacked by the Fire Nation. They might not take too kindly to it if they suddenly notice a firebender among us.” Oikawa glances down at himself and realizes that, at first glance, he looks like a normal tribe member. He sighs and nods at the waterbender.

“You’re right, Mattsun. Thanks. Although,” he says, grimacing, “They’ll find out eventually anyway. It’s not exactly something I can keep hidden, and my face is a fairly recognizable one.”

Matsukawa snorts. “No kidding,” he says, and then turns his attention to the boat.

The ship is moving faster than it has in days, following the three distant airbenders high above them. Oikawa moves to the front of the ship, and hums happily at the welcome sight of the Northern Air Temple before them.

With the amount of people working to bend the ship to shore, it only takes a few minutes for the bottom of the ship to scrape the sandy bottom. For a moment, everyone on board holds their breath.

And then one of the younger tribe members, barely ten years old, leaps out of the boat with an elated cry, snow boots slamming into the ground. The moment is gone, and the entire tribe disembarks, and cheers fill the air.

Oikawa sighs in relief as his feet connect with the sand and staggers for a moment, re-adjusting to the stationary earth. Hesitantly he takes a step forwards, and a hand suddenly clasps over his shoulder. He turns, and blinks at Iwaizumi’s honest, joyful expression.

“Thank you,” the waterbender says. “The casualties would have been much worse if you hadn’t helped us.”

Oikawa tilts his head to the side.

“What kind of Prince would I be if I hadn’t?” he responds softly, and Iwaizumi hums quietly before moving to stand next to Suga, the chieftain almost trembling in relief.

Their boat is slowly melting behind them. No one has the energy to maintain it, nor does anyone care anymore. They’ve survived, they’re safe. The Tribe will live on.

Their festivities are cut short by the arrival of all three of the airbenders landing on the beach a short distance away. They converse for a moment before one nods and leaps back into the air, headed for the temple. The other two stow away their gliders and approach the tribe, with Akaashi in the lead.

Suga’s hand suddenly darts out, and grabs Oikawa’s in a firm grip to get his attention.

“Do you want to tell them, or do you want us to hide you? We will follow your wishes. Your family line is at stake.”

Oikawa gapes at him, and is suddenly hit with another wave of gratefulness to the chieftain—so strong that he can’t even speak for a moment, and the surrounding tribemembers look at him worriedly.

“I think we can trust them,” Oikawa says. “It’s best if they know, anyway. Maybe they can help. But Suga…” he pauses and squeezes Suga’s hand before releasing it. “Thank you,” he murmurs quietly, and Suga smiles.

Akaashi steps forwards.

“This is Kenma, one of my fellow airbenders,” he says. “We sent another ahead to warn the others of your arrival.”

Suga nods. “We are in your debt,” he says solemnly, tilting his body into a small bow of gratitude. Oikawa and the rest of the tribe follow his example, bowing slightly to the airbenders. They nod at the gesture politely.

“There’s no need to thank us,” Kenma says. “We’re just doing what anyone else would.”

Oikawa figures that now is as good a time as any. He steps forward, raising his head high and pushing his shoulders back, falling into the posture that had been drilled into him years ago by his instructors.

“Not everyone,” he says, and, every eye falls on him. The airbenders freeze in surprise, and for a moment, everything is completely silent.

Akaashi takes a step back, eyes wide.

“Prince Oikawa,” he breaths. “But you—the royal family—everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“And I’d prefer for it to stay that way,” Oikawa says. “At least, until I can find a way to take back what was stolen from me.” He can see the tribe out of the corner of his eye, hanging off of his every word. “But to do that, I will need allies.” He meets Akaashi’s surprised gaze with a firm, determined look of his own. “Will you help me?”

A myriad of emotions play across Akaashi’s face, unidentifiable in their speed, but eventually he steps forward, falling onto one knee into a formal bow, bringing his arm across his chest in the airbender version of the movement. Kenma follows his example. The Tribe shifts anxiously, but Oikawa doesn’t move. He is use to this.

“The Northern Airbenders will do everything in our power to help you,” Akaashi says, lifting his head. “Your father was greatly respected here, and we mourn his death. I am very sorry for your loss.” His words are completely heartfelt, and Oikawa nods in acknowledgement, biting his lip subtly to prevent his own sorrow from flashing across his face.

“Thank you,” Oikawa says, dropping his posture and giving Akaashi an exhausted and genuinely grateful look. “Thank you—I can’t thank you enough.”

Akaashi rises.

“Follow us, please. The head monk, Takeda, will be more than happy to provide you with everything you need.”

They set off down the path, and the tribe follows wearily, but in good spirits. Oikawa watches them all—the blue of the tribe and the bright yellow and orange of the monks—and trembles in relief.

The tribe, the people who saved him, are safe, and he is finally among allies.

This feeling will not last long. Every step he takes brings him closer to his Nation. He knows that a battle is coming—one that could bring about his execution at his traitor cousin’s hands. But the tribe is happy and relieved around him, and he slowly lets a small smile spread across his face.

For the moment, he can allow himself to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With any luck, this will get updated more often, even though I have a different work that's taking priority right now. Leave a review or kudos if you liked it!
> 
> (However, if you like Star Wars: The Clone Wars go check out my other stuff!)


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